Back to Back
by strandedthought
Summary: RoyAi 100 themes take two. 35: Rainy Day Blues: Hawkeye is having a bad day. 36. Fuhrer-Elect: Mustang and Hawkeye anxiously await the results of the election. post-manga, no spoilers.
1. Military Personnel

I don't own FMA.

chapter 58 spoilers, if you don't know, and don't wish to find out who Roy's alchemy teacher was, stop reading. Dialogue taken directly from manga.

**:)-------(:**

Roy had let himself in, dressed up in his military blues and looking as dashing as she remembered him.

"He's not feeling very well, and surely seeing you in that manner won't help him," she remarked as he tried to sneak past her back.

Roy tensed at her words and slowly lowered his booted foot to the wood flooring. He turned to look at her, and their eyes locked for a brief, awkward moment. "How'd you know?" he asked—the rubber soles of his boots seemingly transmuted to the floor.

"Out of the corner of my eye, Mr. Mustang. Our name does command a certain amount of keen eyesight," she explained, turning away from him and back to the task at hand. "Would you like a cup of tea also? I take it you're here to speak with Father."

"Thank you, Miss Hawkeye. Is he in his study?" he asked, taking a hesitant step into the kitchen towards her—his boots seemed to be free of the floor at last.

She only nodded in answer as she reached to the highest shelf of the cabinet to pull down another cup and saucer.

Roy frowned, took back his step, and continued down the hall until he reached the closed door of the room he knew so well. He knocked and took the mumbled sound he heard as permission to enter, and smiled at his hard working teacher.

When his aged teacher looked up at him Roy's smile faltered. The man he used to admire above all sat in his dusty room on a chair that was literally falling apart, something easily fixed with alchemy, his hair hung in greasy locks that indicated he no longer cared for life, his face was sunken and sallow, and the glint in the man's eyes reminded Roy of the desperate homeless men he had seen on the streets of the destitute side of Central.

"So, you've become a soldier after all, Roy?" a statement spat at him over the scratching of a quill on paper.

"Yes, Sensei," he admitted, standing with the straight, stiff posture he'd learned during his years in the academy. "I thought that I would eventually like to take the qualification for a state alchemist and work for my country."

"As I thought, it's still too early for you to use 'Flame Alchemy'," Hawkeye said with a wry smile, more to himself than his student.

"Still…is it? In the end, you've only taught me the basics of alchemy up to now," Roy reminded him.

"Of course. It's a waste to teach someone who would degrade himself by becoming a dog of the military," he replied, turning his attention back to his writing.

"'Alchemy is for the people', isn't it, Sensei? I think that being useful to the military is linked to being useful to the people," Roy explained, his voice raw with passion. His teacher's shoulders slumped at his words, and in the silence Roy continued on, "Now that we are exposed to threats from surrounding countries, strengthening the military is most urgent to protect the nation alchemy is—"

"I've tired of listening to those second hand opinions." Hawkeye said, the strokes of his quil quickening in his anger as he waved off what he believed to be scripted lines.

"To think, if I had as much knowledge as you, it would be easy to take the state qualification," Roy said, his posture loosening a bit. "Honestly, I find it unbearable that someone of your caliber is smoldering in such destitution," Roy said, going in a different direction. "If you take the state qualification and accept the issued research funds, your research would also go even further—"

Roy was interrupted again as Hawkeye set his quill down and spoke, "There's no need for that. My research was perfected a long time ago. It is the strongest kind of alchemy. Depending on how it's used, it can also become the most deadly" Roy stared at him as he rose his face and looked at, no through, the ceiling. He continued, "And I became satisfied. Alchemists are living beings who, as long as they are alive, cannot go on without seeking truth, when they stop their thinking the 'Alchemists' would die. That is why I am a human who died a long time ago," he said, looking his student straight in the eye for the first time during their conversation.

Roy looked away he couldn't bear the words and those haunted, desperate eyes. "Please, don't say such a thing. If you would please use that power for the world—"

Once again, Hawkeye's sharp voice rose above his own in a hiss, "Power? So, you want power, Roy?"

Roy flinched at the hissed words, his teacher had misinterpreted him, and than suddenly blood was everywhere, pouring out of the man's mouth and covering his extensive scribbling on the pages on his desk. "Sensei!" Roy shouted as he ran over to the desk where his teacher's face landed. Blood was still pouring from the man's mouth. Roy was at his side and called to him again, "Sensei!"

"Since I saw your growth with my own eyes…I thought of bestowing it on you," he said through coughs and gurgles. "What a pity…I don't have time left to teach you…"

"Wha…" Roy couldn't form words, his teacher was dying before his eyes, and he couldn't do anything to save him, even as a trained military officer he was useless when it came to death.

"But my research…my daughter knows it all…" Hawkeye gasped, he could feel every part of him dying, he couldn't hold himself up, couldn't move his hands, and his lips were becoming so cold, his body was almost frozen from the lack of heat the blood rushing out of his veins would have provided, and he continued on, not exactly sure of what he was able to get out for Roy to hear, how he wished Riza was there too, "If you're saying you will use my alchemy, my power in the correct way, she will probably present the secret to you…I'm sorry."

"Please, get ahold of yourself," Roy bellowed, for himself and his teacher, helplessly placing a hand on the man's shoulder and shaking him.

"I was so immersed in my research I couldn't do anything for you. I'm sorry Riza…Roy…I'll leave my daughter to you…please…please…please…" he used his last few breath to ask his student to take care of his daughter, the one he had neglected so much over the years. He could barely feel his arm being pulled over Roy's shoulder and his body being lifted as upright as it could get.

"Sensei!! Hawkeye Sensei! Someone, someone call a doctor. Is anyone here?" Roy yelled as he pulled his idol up from his seat, mostly dragging him towards the door of the room, and at that moment he saw Riza and remembered she was just in the kitchen.

There she was leaning against the door, eyes wide with tears as she looked at the bloody mess her father was in Roy's arms. "Riza!" Roy called her name in depseration, willing the man in he held up to make it just another day. And then he felt her father's body growing stiff and knew it was too late, too late, he couldn't do anything at all.

He had only taken his eyes from her to look at his teacher for a moment and when he looked back he saw the tear traveling down her face, and that was all it took for the guilt to consume him. He'd gotten every single one of her letters, each one telling him briefly how things were going, and how her father's health was deteriorating, and how he refused to see a doctor, and he had never written back. Roy thought that if only he had come back sooner he could have talked sense into the man, made him at least see a doctor, but no, he'd waited until he had the courage to come back and face his teacher, until he was sure that becoming a state alchemist was the right thing to do, and that leaving hadn't been a mistake.

Guilt and doubt licked at every part of his being until he stumbled from the dead weight of his teacher. He looked back at Riza, and she was shaking against the door with quiet sobs, at that moment he promised to protect her with every ounce of his being, to make a better world for her.

**:)-------(:**

A.N.-And you're all thinking, why is she writing another set of RoyAi 100 themes responses? Well, they help me procrastinate on other things, making my ideas for them better, if you know how that works. I truly do get my best work done while procrastinating and working under pressure, and I find myself disappointed with my other set of responses.

Many thanks to Dai, WindxAlchemist, and Bizzy who've already read through this and commented.


	2. Scars

I don't own FMA

**Chapter 39, 58-61 spoilers. **

**:)-------(:**

Riza Hawkeye had two secrets.

The first, three people knew about. One being the man who had given it to her, and he was long since dead. The second wasn't even a person at all, but a loyal canine, and she was more than sure he wouldn't go barking her secret to anyone. The last was the man who had decoded the notes left on her back, and used them to become a state alchemist. He'd also destroyed the key information to decoding the notes after she'd practically begged him to, and the fact that he entrusted her with his own back was proof enough for her that he wouldn't tell anyone without her permission.

Her second secret was born of the first. The tattoo and scars on her back were the only reasons why she never let anyone know of her collection of bathing suits. One went with her to the lake every year when her team went there during their summer holiday, and this year, just like all the others, only Hayate would see it.

No matter the weather, she always wore a t–shirt and shorts over her swimsuit. No matter how tempting, she never discarded the wet shirt when it clung to her like a second skin after she got out of the lake.

* * *

Again, she found herself pulling four garments out of her suitcase, when most women would only have one or two. She put the shorts and shirt on her bed, and then slipped into the other two garments. She stared at her self in the mirror for a moment. 

The bikini didn't have any feminine prints on it, but it was a deep blue, almost black, with a sliver shine to it. The high cut of the bottoms accentuated the length of her legs, toned from years of military training. She turned around and looked over her shoulder into the mirror. The top of the bikini was modest—it fit her almost like the sports bras she wore just every day. Maybe that was why she was so comfortable in it. The marks of the tattoo at the base of her neck peeked out from under the fabric, along with the scarring on her shoulder, and tattoo lines that reached her lower back and other shoulder.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts about the tattoo that she jumped when a knock sounded on her door.

"You ready, Riza?" Roy called.

"Almost," she called back as she pulled the forest green t-shirt over her head, and tied the drawstring of the short, black board shorts once they were on her hips.

She opened the door for Roy while she searched for her flip flops. He sat down at the foot of her bed just as got down on her knees to look under the side of it, and sure enough they were right there. When she finally slipped them on and looked over at Roy he was crouched over petting Hayate. She tilted her head to the side when she noticed he was wearing a blue, button up, t-shirt with hibiscus flowers on it along with his with his trademark black swim trunks with a red stripe depicting flames running up each side.

For a second she thought he was just wearing it until they joined everyone else on the shore, but when he stood the sides didn't flap open, the shirt was actually buttoned. "You're wearing a shirt?" she asked.

"What else would I wear?" he replied.

"Well, it's just that you don't usually, uh, wear a shirt when we go out," she stammered.

Roy smirked, but gave her a serious answer. "It's the scars," he said, his hand resting over the exact spot they were on his stomach out of its accord.

Riza looked over his shoulder and into the mirror she'd been staring into a few minutes before. She didn't see Roy in the mirror, all she saw was herself standing there dropping her pistol to the ground and breaking down at Lust's words. The way she'd given up at the mention of him being dead, how Alphonse had been willing to sacrifice himself so she would live, and how Roy had been so strong while she was useless—all of it came back to her in a flash or words and images.

Roy noticed her shudder and knew she was going through the memories of the day they battled Lust. He took a step closer to her, and she didn't react—her gaze was still fixed over his shoulder. It was at his second step towards her that her eyes shifted to lock onto his. She opened her mouth to tell him he didn't have to hide his scars, but she couldn't say it. She didn't want to see the reminder of that day.

"I know. You don't have to hide yours, either," he whispered into her ear. "Besides, you can't be showing off much with that one piece," he joked as he pulled back, effectively breaking the tension.

She laughed at his assumption. "You'd be surprised," she shot back. When he didn't have anything to say she tugged on the sleeve of his shirt and said, "Not like there's much to see under that shirt anyways."

Roy stood there stunned until Hayate trotted back to his side and barked at him. He reached down to pet the dog and then followed Riza out of the room. He decided his mission for the day would be to figure out exactly what she was wearing under that dark green shirt, and to catch her staring at him.

**:)-------(:**

A.N.-I'm going a bit out of order here, this is theme 17-Scars. It's also written for the FM-A forum for the RoyAi Summer Festival's SwimSuit Parade. Next will be the second theme-Gunshot.

Thank you to everyone for reviewing: Mirage992, WinglessFairy25, AnimeLuvr8, JackSparrow589, Silver Candle, Kuroxdoragon, OTP, LittleChemist, Hunter-Robin, Legendary Chimera, ehxehfdl14, Syolen, Dailenna, MoonStarDutchess, Yun Min, and my anonymous reviewer.


	3. Shirt

Theme: 32-Shirt

Title: The Flame Alchemist Gets Burnt

**Chapter 39, & 58-61 spoilers. Continuation of Scars**

**:)-------(:**

Riza lifted an agitated brow and cast her eyes towards Roy when she heard that sound again.

Roy gave a weak smile to all the eyes that were now focused on him and let go of the front of his shirt, which immediately suctioned to his chest again. "This watermelon is good," he stated, lifting up a slice off his plate and taking a bite of it.

Riza shook her head and got back to her sandwich, at least until she heard the squelching noise again. She wasn't even going to glance up again, but she turned her attention away from her meal when Elysia spoke up, "Is something the matter, Uncle Roy?"

Roy chuckled—of course Elysia would be the one to ask. "The way this shirt is sticking to me," he replied.

Elysia tilted her head to the side for a moment as she regarded his answer, and then her face lit up with a smile. "Then why don't you take it off? You've never worn a shirt at the lake before," she reminded him.

Without having to be told a second time Roy set down his slice of watermelon and his fingers quickly unhooked each of the buttons. The squelching sounded one last time as he pulled off the shirt and hung it on the back of his chair.

"Better?" Elysia questioned.

"Mhm," Roy replied with a nod as he bit into his slice of watermelon again.

Riza quickly averted her eyes from the watermelon juice that dribbled down his chin and dropped onto his chest. A series of coughs erupted in her throat, earning her a worried glance from more than a few people at the table.

"Are you okay?" Gracia asked, giving Riza a knowing glance.

Riza was thankful that her face was already slightly flushed from her little coughing fit, because if it hadn't been it would have tinged pink at the way Gracia was looking at her. "Fine, a bit of food just went down the wrong way," she said, giving a final cough. She picked at her salad and caught Maria's eye. "Have you heard about the new pistols?" she asked, steering conversation to a safe topic.

"Yeah, rumor has it that they're lighter" Maria said.

"And hold more ammo," Jean joined in.

It wasn't long before Riza was being dragged away from the table and down to the end of the dock by Elysia. She helped fasten one of the blow-ups around Elysia's right arm, while Gracia fastened one around the anxious girl's left arm. Riza and Gracia got into the water first, and Elysia jumped into Riza's arms with an excited Hayate plunging in after her.

Riza helped Gracia keep Elysia from swimming out too far in the lake while she carefully avoided talking to Gracia about any subject that would take them towards her own marital status. The woman could be just as bad as her deceased husband when it came to the topic of marriage.

It wasn't until Elysia complained about getting tired that Riza noticed how long they had been in the water. The position of the sun indicated that they only had a few hours left until they would have to get the firewood ready for the bonfire. Upon getting out of the water she looked to the blanket with her bag on it, and didn't see her towel. Her eyes scanned the area, and she did a double take when she realized Roy was pink. She walked over to where he was laying on his back, and when she was standing over him realized he wasn't just pink. The vibrant red hue of his skin was the same exact color of the thread of the sigil sewn into his ignition gloves. The second thing she took note of was her purple towel rolled up under his head as a pillow.

Roy felt something cold hit his forehead and travel down the side of his face, and then another drop landed on his stomach, and a third on his arm. The first thought his sleepy mind jumped to was rain. He opened his eyes, only to squeeze them shut at the harsh rays of sunlight. When a shadow fell over the brightness that filtered through his eyelids he opened one eye. Upon seeing Riza blocking out the light, he opened his other eye.

"Afternoon sleepyhead, it's time for you to go inside," she informed him.

"Why?" he asked, not moving from his comfortable position.

"Your sunburn will just get worse if you're out in the sun," she told him.

"I don't have a sunburn. I put sun block on," he replied, though the minute the words left his mouth he did notice he was feeling a bit warm and prickly, but he could credit that to the weather.

"Not enough," she remarked as she nudged his sunburned leg with her foot.

Roy couldn't deny the sunburn once her foot made contact with it. The burst of heat that spread through the limb from the point of contact definitely could not be credited to the weather. "Fine, I'll go inside," he muttered, grabbing the hand she offered to help him up. He held back his grimace at the sharp sting he felt with his movements.

"I think I brought some aloe cream with me," she told him as he started to walk, limping more than slightly, in the direction of the house they had rented for the week. He knew she would follow him. She always made sure he got home safe when he was sick, and he supposed having a sunburn counted as being ill to her.

Riza walked behind him amused by the fact that from behind one could barely tell he had a sunburn. Only the red on the tops of his shoulders and the stiff way he moved gave clue to it. She walked past his room as he closed the door and went into her own. Digging around in the smaller bag she brought she stacked a variety of items onto her bed before she produced a bottle of a green gel-like substance. After a bit more searching she found the small first aide kit she brought and removed the small bottle of aspirin from it. She had just finished ringing out her dripping hair when she heard his bedroom door open again. She clipped her hair back up and grabbed the two bottles as she walked out of her room.

She heard him muttering something about showers making sunburns hurt worse as she walked into his room. "Here, this should help," she said, setting the gel down beside him on his bed. She set down the bottle of aspirin, picked up the cup on his dresser, and made her way into the bathroom that connected his room with Jean's. After filling the cup with water she returned to his room to find him carefully spreading the gel onto his face. "I brought some aspirin too," she said, turning her back to him and returning the glass of water to its place while she shook two of the white tablets out of the bottle.

She glanced over at him when she picked up the glass of water and shook her head. He was grimacing as he bent over to rub the gel into his legs. She rolled her eyes and mumbled, "Idiot." Roy straightened up and glared at her. "Here," she said, dropping the tablets into one hand and holding the glass in front of his face.

"Thanks," he said, popping the aspirin into his mouth, and washing it down with the water she offered.

A reply wasn't made, but she took the bottle of aloe from his bed and squeezed a line of it down his right arm. She was careful to be as gentle as possible while rubbing it into his heated skin. When she finished with his right arm she moved around to sit on the other side of him, looking up at him once while she was rubbing the gel into his left arm, and quickly looking back down to his arm when she noticed he was staring at her.

Roy didn't know what exactly to do. The aloe was certainly helping, but more heat flared to every piece of skin she touched. He was glad of the fact that his face was burnt, because if it hadn't had been he would have been flushed when she looked up at him. He entertained the notion that he might have kissed her had she held his gaze perhaps a second longer, and he was more than sure he wouldn't have been able to stop at one kiss if it had happened. He stared at her hair, a shade darker than its usual gold due to the water it retained, and wondered how long it was. He hadn't seen it down in quite a while. His thoughts trailed away when his stomach tensed at her touch. He flinched at the ache the tightening of muscles gave his skin.

"Relax," Riza ordered when his skin tightened under her fingertips. She didn't know at the time, but her mind was storing every line of muscle and scar tissue into her memory as she moved her hands across his stomach and up to his chest. She stopped for a moment to get more of the gel on her hands, and then continued on the right side of his chest. As her hands made their way towards his left side she began to feel the beating of his heart, and for a second had the impulse to put her ear to his chest and listen to it. It only took a few seconds for her to realize his heart rate was in fact much higher than what it should have been, and her hands ceased their movement at that realization.

Roy could feel his heart pounding against his rib cage. His mind was once again lost in his fantasy. His hands were tangled in her hair as they kissed, and her hands were exploring his stomach in desire, at least until they stopped right above the spot his racing heart was bruising. He blinked himself back to reality.

Riza didn't move her hands from his chest, but she did tilt her head to look up at him, and her spine shook with a chill when his dilated eyes locked onto hers.

Roy frowned at the tremor that ran through her body, but it kept him in reality. He quickly searched for something to say, to do. "You'll catch cold if you keep that shirt on," he reasoned, his hands already pulling the hem of her shirt over her head. It wasn't until he'd gotten the shirt off of her that he thought of the pain the movement brought to his sunburned arms.

Riza stared at him, a bit shocked from his action. Her hands had been quickly removed from his chest when he pulled the shirt off, and her hair clip had come undone when the collar of her shirt tugged at it as he pulled it over her head.

Roy's eyes slowly traveled from her waist and up to her face, taking in every curve that was visible to his eyes. Removing her shirt had not improved his situation at all. Now he wanted to feel her cool skin against his. "You would've caught cold," he reasoned again, avoiding her eyes. Standing, he slowly walked over to the dresser where he'd put all of his clothes in search of a shirt for her.

Riza followed him, making sure her back was never to his opened door. "What're you doing?" she asked once she was at his side.

"Getting you another shirt," he replied, stiffly moving aside the white shirts at the top of the drawer.

"I'll do it, you go rest. Your sunburn is just going to hurt from moving around," she told him, reaching into the drawer.

"Got one," he said, pulling a light blue shirt out of the drawer and closing it as soon as Riza removed her hand. He held the shirt up for her to slip her arms into the sleeves, and after a moment she turned around and did so. In the brief moment before the shirt covered her he stared at the precise and elegant lines tattooed onto her back that were visible under her hair. When she turned back around to face him she was already starting to button the shirt up, but he took over at the third button from the bottom. As his hands worked their way up to the top most buttons, she knew he heart was beating just as fast as his had been. Her head tingled when he gently extracted her hair from underneath the shirt, and she found herself taking in a deep breath as his thumbs grazed her neck when he turned down the collar.

"Thank you," she said in a voice higher than normal when his hands fell to his sides.

"No problem," he said, raising his hand once again, this time to move a stray lock of hair back into its place behind her ear. "Thanks, that stuff helped," he told her, nodding his head in the direction of his bed where the bottle of aloe lay.

"Hold onto it for now. Are you going to come back outside for the bonfire?" she asked, stepping around him, breaking the strange tension that had been building.

"Yeah, save me a seat. I promised to roast a few marshmallows for Elysia," he answered as he walked back to his bed and sat down on the end of it.

"I let them know you'll be joining us," she said, giving him a final glance over her shoulder as she walked out of his room.

Roy stared at the hairclip lying on the floor not far from his feet. It was one that he had given her—dark blue with a single silver cherry blossom painted in the middle of it. The hair clip certainly matched her swimsuit, and with that thought he laid back on his bed and fell asleep to day dreams similar to those of the ones he had had minutes before.

Roy woke up to someone poking him in the side. "I'm awake," he mumbled, beginning to stretch, but stopping at the ache it ignited in his heated skin.

"C'mon Uncle Roy, we started already," Elysia said, staring down at him.

"I'll be out there in a minute, just let me put some of this stuff on," he told her as he sat up and grabbed the bottle of aloe from where Riza had left it on his bed.

"Okay," she said and skipped out of the room, only to re-enter a few second later. "Oh, I almost forgot. Aunt Riza said to give you this, and she told me to say you better wear a shirt, even if the sun is already down," Elysia explained as she dumped a blue shirt on his lap.

Roy watched her run back out of his room. When he finished the painful process of coating every piece of red skin with the green gel he put the shirt on, the very same shirt Riza had worn out of his room a couple hours ago.

Riza caught Roy's eye when he joined them at the bonfire. It had taken him at least 15 minutes to reach them after Elysia had gotten back. With a subtle movement of her head she indicated the empty seat on her left.

**:)-------(:**

A.N.-Many thanks to Dai, and Bizzy for helping me out on this one when I was stuck. Thanks for reading! School started and slowed down the writing of this chapter. I hope to post as often as I can, but I'll have to get myself into the routine before that happens, and I want to try and keep my other fics updated also. Edited-9/4/07-thanks for pointing out the missing piece Crystal Mage!

Thank you for reviewing: Syolen, Anne Packrat, ehxhfdl14, Yun Min, GoldenVoilin127, JackSparrow589, KasumiRyimizu, WinglessFairy25, Dailenna, Animeluvr8, Kuroxdoragon, Legendary Chimera, MoonStarDutchess, Bizzy, Little Chemist, Your Favourite Plushie, Mirage992, Silver Candle, OTP, Hunter-Robin, and anonymous.


	4. Gunshot

I don't own FMA

Very, very, slight spoilers from ch 58-61

_Theme 2-Gunshot  
_

**:)-------(:**

The cold metal was slowly sucking the warmth out of her fingers as she traced the unfamiliar lines of the barrel back to the safety and unlatched it, listening to the metallic click lost in the open space of her backyard.

Roy Mustang was gone, and he was never coming back. He was almost as bad as her father—promising her the world and then forgetting about her when she was right there.

In this she sought perfection, just as he father and his student had with alchemy. She set her feet, and took proper hold of the pistol. Her finger slid onto the trigger as she brought her arms up. Her eyes narrowed at the tree before her, she knew exactly what she was aiming for. She closed her eyes and for a moment and thought of the young man she had watched grow up in her house. The way he'd studied the ink on her back. How his fingers has traced over lines when he was confused.

Her ears were used to the sound the gun made as the bullet discharged. Her muscles were trained not to move as the gun gave a kick at the tiny explosion that took place in the barrel. Four times she applied pressure to the trigger. Four times the sound filtered out into the open fields. Four apples hit the soft carpet of grass.

The last apple had barely touched the ground when she turned to face the person who had begun clapping. For a brief moment her mind had entertained the notion that he had come back for her, but her eyes did not deceive her with illusions of him. The man standing across from her raised gun and sharp eyes was older. His hair still had traces of gold mixed in with white, and his smile was one she faintly recognized.

"Who are you?" she asked, not lowering the gun.

"Usually the academy wouldn't accept someone of your age, but with the display you've given it would be foolish of them not to. There is only one thing you must consider. This nation is on the verge of war. We've had to put down many rebellions lately. You may very well be called to join the battle with your talent," he warned her.

"It is a job that must be done," was her simple reply. She lowered her gun, but did not holster it.

"Yes, that is true. I can have a train ticket for you by tomorrow night if you would like to join the next class in basic training," he told her, taking off his glasses to clean them. The brilliance of the setting sun always made the dirt on the lenses more visible than before, and he wanted to have a clear look at the young woman in front of him.

"I don't have the consent of my guardian," she informed him.

"That has already been taken care of Miss Hawkeye. With the information you gave on your application it was easy to track him down. After all, he is a member of the military. I would not be here right now if he did not know," the man said with a smile.

"Really?" Riza asked, trying to keep the look of shock from cracking through her straight face.

"Yes. I'll be staying at the inn down the road. Come by with your decision in the morning," he said and turned to walk away.

"Who do I ask for?" she called to him, her decision already made.

"Grumman," he replied, giving her a grin over his shoulder.

She watched the man walk away, his hair colored orange by the rays of the sun. After he disappeared around the side of her dilapidating house she used the two bullets remaining in the chamber, and then collected the half dozen apples on the grass. Tonight she would make her mother's apple pie, a small one, and tomorrow she would leave on a train with Grumman. Soon, she would really be able to perfect her aim. He would find out forgetting about her wasn't as easy as he thought.

While she peeled the apples she wondered how they had found out her father had passed guardianship over to him. Everyone in town believed she was orphaned, but no one would come forward and say it. They all knew she was already independent enough to take care of herself.

She didn't know that in the eyes of the Armestrian government she was now under the care of the grandfather, a man she had assumed was dead since he'd never once been mentioned to her while her parents were alive.

**:)-------(:**

A.N.-I'm going to be more strict with my self set deadlines. Thanks for reading!!

Thank you for reviewing: Bar-Ohki, Mirage992, JackSparrow589, Dailenna, OTP, Silver Candle, Jennlyn78, Legendary Chimera, GoldenViolin127, Kuroxdoragon, Crystal Mage, AnimeLuvr8, Yun Min, Bizzy, Syolen, WinglessFariy25, YourFavouritePlushie, MoonStarDutchess, Syolen, AnnePackrat, ehxhfdl14, KusamiRymizu, Anonymous, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	5. Before Falling Asleep

I don't own FMA

future fic

Theme 58: Before Falling Asleep

**:)-------(: **

Maes walked home from school holding his mother's hand with his new project in mind. He could only recall hearing his parents speak of someone with his name a couple times before, usually when they were at Elysia's house.

Riza noted that her son wasn't quite with her when he stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk. "What's on you mind?" she asked as they crossed the street.

"Who's Maes?"

"You are," she replied, shooting him a curious look.

"No, Mom, the other one," he explained.

Riza smiled at her son. "An old friend, you're his namesake," she said, letting go of his hand to ruffles his black hair. "We have pictures of him at home. Not as many as we'd like. He was usually behind the camera."

"Where is he?"

"He died before you were born."

"Oh," Meas sighed. "How?"

Riza busied herself with unlocking the door while she thought over how she wanted to answer the question. She certainly didn't want to tell her son that Maes Hughes had been murdered because he knew too much, or about the homunculi. Once they were inside she answered, "He died helping save the country."

As she hung up their coats she narrowed her eyes at the familiar, black, uniform coat that had slid off its hanger to the closet floor.

"Dad's home!" she heard Maes shout from wherever he had disappeared to in their little home.

Riza chuckled as she heard Roy mention, quite loudly, how he'd gotten to leave early, since he'd finished his paperwork ahead of schedule.

She found Maes sitting across from Roy in the study. It wasn't filled with quite as many books as her father had in his, but it was more than most people had, unless one looked at Schiezka's collection. Maes was examining the framed photo of Roy and Maes from when they had graduated from the academy. Roy on the other hand, was looking a bit more pale than usual.

"Let me find the photo albums, we've got more in there," Riza said. She gave Roy a sad smile as she shuffled across the room. Within seconds she had two leather bound books in her hands. "He was great man, wasn't he Roy?" she asked, prompting him out of his stupor.

Roy nodded. "Mhm, always trying to make people smile," he affirmed, laughing at the part of the sentence he'd added in his head, "_for the camera."_ "He would have given anyone the shirt off his back if they needed it. His family was always important to him, and he wanted all of his friends to find the same happiness he had by starting their own family."

Riza sent Roy a knowing look at his description of their deceased friend. She remembered hearing Maes' not so quiet suggestions about Roy needing to "get hitched" to a certain lieutenant. After handing the books to Maes she made her way around the desk and stood at Roy's back. Her hand found its way onto his shoulder as he spoke again, "I met him during my second week at the academy. It was my first day of training with fire arms, and when he saw me practicing he decided to tell me I had a horrible stance. I wouldn't have liked him if I didn't know it was the truth. He helped me fix my stance, and after training was over we went out to a bar. We became fast friends after that."

* * *

As they lay in bed that night, Riza wondered at the odd coincidence of their son asking his question on that particular day. "Did you want to visit his grave tomorrow?" she asked. 

"No," Roy sighed, running his fingers through her loose hair. "I don't think he'd like that. He would rather have us spend time with Gracia and Elysia, laugh about the past, or finally bring our second child into the world," he elaborated, placing his hands on Riza's swollen stomach. "I can't believe it's been nine months, since we found out, let alone nine years, since that day."

"Nine months? Trust me, when you're like this it doesn't get here soon enough, but everything happened so fast nine years is hard to believe," Riza replied, resting her head on his chest.

**:)-------(:**

AN-This was written for the RoyAi Halloween Festival on fullmetal-alchemist(dot)com. Next one will be Heiki & Heiki a continuation of Gunshot. Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing: Desert-Storm-Cloud, ehxhfdl14, OTP, Animluvr8, DaEvilGenius, Dailenna, Jennlyn78, Syolen, Blaze Alchemist, Bar-Ohki, GoldenVilen127, Crystal Mage, JackSparrow589, Bizzy, Legendary Chimera, MoonStarDutchess, YourFavouitePlushie, WinglessFairy25, Yun Min, Mirage992, Silver Candle, Kuroxdoragon, Anne Packrat, KasumiRyumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	6. Heiki & Heiki

I don't own FMA

Theme 5 Heiki & Heiki ((Weapon and Fine))

Continuation of chapter 4- Gunshot

**:)-------(:**

Watching her, there was no mistaking whether or not she would pass through the academy. The FN in her hand was a mere extension of her being. He'd gone hoping to take her back to Eastern, where he currently lived, and get to know her, but when she'd turned with that fierce glare he'd seen the determined fire in her eyes.

Maybe it wasn't just that which made him blurt out words he hadn't mean to address so early on. He couldn't help but think of her as his daughter for a moment, and his insecurities had floated to the surface of his mind. Would she hate him for not being part of her life, for not coming back at all after his daughter died, for not knowing about her father's death until he'd gotten the guardian consent form that needed signed for her admittance into the academy?

No, instead of telling her of his true identity and trying to persuade her to join her remaining family he spoke to her of joining the academy in hopes of getting his courage up to tell her the truth. One word from her could do more damage than a bullet through his heart.

Now, as he sat across from her in the private booth reserved for military personnel, he watched her expertly clean the military issued pistols that had disappeared from his collection over twenty years ago. It was an old model, but one of his favorites.

"How'd you get those?" he asked, hoping she knew some of the history of the weapons.

Never stopping from her work, she looked up and answered, "I found them packed away with my mother's belongings. My father never asked me where I got them, but I think he knew."

"They're military issue, very nice ones at that. It took nearly a decade before they replaced it with a better model, but I still prefer it," he said. "So, your father never told you where your mother got them?"

Her lips turned down at the question, and a shake of her head was her only response. The silence of their compartment was only permeated by the wheels of the train clattering over the tracks. He watched her wrap the shinning guns in delicate silk scarves. He recalled the trip to Xing he had made with his wife, and the collections of silk scarves she had purchased, two from each of the rival clans. Their daughter had always been fond of the blue ones that now confined the pistols. She used to use one to make a bow in her hair when they all attended a military function—it matched the color of the uniforms perfectly.

He was about to ask her about the scarves when she stood and addressed him. "Where is the bathroom, Sir?"

"Just down the corridor on the right hand side of the car, my right," he answered pointing in the proper direction. "Oh, and no need for formalities," he added as the cabin door swished open. She gave him a small bow of the head as she slid the door closed.

Alone in the small booth he couldn't help but give in to his desire to inspect the pistols. He opened her suitcase and removed one of the triangular, blue bundles. The material was pulled away with ease, and he turned the pistol in his hand.

The pad of his index finger caressed the underside of the barrel stopping at the trigger. Just before the trigger on the barrel the metal dipped in thin intricate lines, it was the same place he had his initials engraved into all of his guns. It had been hard to find the proper smith for the job, but he still went to the same man every time he got a new gun.

Riza took short, slow strides on her way back to the cabin, steeling herself for the question she was going to ask. A deep breath escaped her lungs as her hand came in contact with the groove in the sliding wooden door.

She sat back down in her seat with one thing, person, on her mind. "Sir, if you wouldn't mind telling me, I'd like to know how the military found out Mr. Mustang is my guardian. There was no record submitted that I know of," she said quickly.

Grumman stared at the girl, young woman, studying her hands. He was too stunned to speak for a moment. Everyone knew the name Mustang—they all wanted the kid that could manipulate fire in their unit. He hadn't even connected the young Major's talk about his teacher in the South to his son-in-law, the great alchemist who despised the military.

Riza picked a piece of lint off her pants and smoothed her jacket during the older man's silence. After a few moments her eyes gravitated upwards to meet those staring at her through round lenses. "If you don't want to answer, I understand, Sir."

"No, it's just that he didn't…well, to be honest with you, Major Mustang, I assume he is the one you mentioned, isn't your guardian, and never was."

"What?" she interrupted, halting Grumman's response for a second.

"If you've ever looked closely at those pistols, you'll have noticed the letters 'L' and 'G' engraved into the bottom of the barrel, near the trigger," he explained, motioning for her to examine one of the guns in her luggage. While she was looking at the spot mentioned he continued," Those used to belong to your mother's father. His initials are right there, L.G., Leroy Grumman. I am your guardian, your grandfather."

Riza looked from the gun to the man across from her. She had thought he would be her way to find out how Roy was doing, if he was succeeding in his goals, but that snuffed out hope came with something else she'd never expected to find. "But father said," she started, but paused, considering her father's views on the military. "He hated the military, that's why he said we didn't have any relatives," she concluded, unconsciously running her thumb over the fine lines in the gun.

Grumman hang his head. "You know I came out here to take you home with me, to provide for you, not sign you up to join the military. I thought the reason for your choice might have been lack of money or any other means to take care of yourself," he explained.

"Why did you, then?"

"I can't keep you from doing what you want. I could tell by the look in your eyes that you've got your mother's determination and drive," he replied.

"You're my grandfather," she said, trying the words on her tongue.

"I'm sorry. I didn't come sooner. It wasn't until the release papers from the academy came that I even knew he had passed away. Please forgive me for neglecting you," he requested.

Riza nodded, blinking her eyes to keep tears at bay. He didn't know how much his words meant to her, someone who had been pushed to the side for the greater part of her life. "Thank you, you could have just signed the papers, and I wouldn't have known," she said, leaning forward to reach across the booth and place her hand on his. "Would you tell me about yourself, and my mother?" she asked when he placed his other hand atop hers.

"Yes, and in exchange, I'd like to know more about you," he said.

While Riza listened to his story she wondered what Roy would think when the money he had been sending her from his salary got returned without her note telling him to stop, but one telling him no one lived at that address any longer. Would he worry? Would he try and find her?

**:)-------(:**

A.N.-I'll start with Grumman's first name. Leroy Grumman was an American engineering and aeronautical student. He first worked as a construction supervisor for Leoning Aeronautical Engineering Corporation, but in 1930 with the partnership of Leon Swirbul and Bill Schwendler he opened Grumman Aeronautical Engineering Co., where the E-2 Hawkeye was made. Arakawa has named many of her military characters after military aircraft/their makers/weapon companies/their makers. Now onto the FN mentioned early on. FN model 1910 is one of the two pistols seen frequently being used by Riza, the other being a Browning Hi-Power. This chapter will have one, maybe two continuations, in which Roy plays a bigger part. Thanks for reading.

hank you for reviewing: SilverGothicSweetTooth, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, ehxhfdl14, Kuroxdoragon, Crystal Mage, Mirage992, Bar-Ohki, Chaotic Lullaby, Dailenna, Syolen, WinglessFairy25, Desert-Storm-Cloud, OTP, AnimeLuvr8, DaEvilGenius, Jennyln78, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, JackSparrow589, Bizzy, Legendary Chimera, YourFavouitePlushie, Yun Min, Silver Candle, Anne Packrat, KasumiRyumizu, and Hunter-Robin.


	7. Letter

I don't own FMA

Theme 35-Letter

Takes place after the last chapter, Heiki & Heiki

:)-------(:

Roy Mustang was always envied when mail call came rolling around at precisely fourteen hundred hours every day.

He got letters from women thanking him for his company during a date, fathers offering him marriage prospects, and invitations to exclusive parties, but no one knew of the letters he dreaded. The ones returned to him. Most thought they were love letters of some sort, because of the way the mail clerk referred to them. Whenever he'd hand one of the letters to Roy he'd announce to everyone present, "The Southern Lady strikes again." Both he and the mail clerk knew full well that it was one of Roy's own letters being returned to him.

Subsequently, Roy had to hound off questions about the "Southern Lady" while being encouraged to go on a date with this one, or that one by his co-workers. Eventually, he would call on one of the women he got a letter from, just to quiet his comrades. They didn't need to know his dates were usually uneventful with the "Southern Lady" on his mind.

It was fourteen hundred hours on the dot when Krantz walked into the small office Roy worked in to hand out the day's mail. Roy was expecting the returned letter again, it would be any day now, and he knew by the tone in Krantz's voice when he called his name that the letter was there in the small pile he held for him. "Major Mustang, your Southern Lady seems to have changed her tactics," he announced, sifting through the small bundles of letters while Roy walked up to him.

Roy's eyebrows furrowed at the comment—he really didn't like having to put up with the man's code, but later on he'd find out that was the way of an expert strategist and adopt it himself. He snatched the letters with a quick word of thanks and retreated from inquisitive glances to his desk. With the mail clerk's strange code he didn't want to turn the cream colored envelop over and look at the message on the front. Rocking it back and forth between his fingers for a few moments, he tried to pretend the feeling washing over him wasn't making him sink into his chair.

"You just gonna' stare at it, buddy?" came a voice from the other end of the office.

Roy shot a look at the sergeant staring at him with curious eyes. "Uh, Major," the man corrected himself, breaking the fierce eye contact.

"Do I ask about your letters?" Roy addressed the entire office.

A series of mumbled no's filled the office, followed by someone mentioning that anyone would be curious by the amount of mail the Flame Alchemist always got.

"It's about time for my last break," Roy announced, tucking all the letters, but the one into the pocket inside his uniform coat as he grabbed it off the back of his chair and left the office.

The envelope rustled in his hand as he walked around the building. Once he was sheltered from the wind behind the building, he slumped back against the gray wall and closed his eyes. Birds in a nearby tree chirped anxiously, almost as if they were waiting for him to look at the front of the envelope, but his mind of reason quickly vanquished the romantic thought, reasoning that their sound was a result of being disquieted by the wind he had taken refuge from.

"It's just a goddamn letter, not the end of the world," he roused himself, finally flipping the cream paper in his hands and looking down at it. He nearly choked on his breath when he read the words _'No resident of this name at this address. Return to Sender'_ written in an unfamiliar scrawl.

No one knew what the letter had said, but it was obvious that it did not hold good news when they heard Roy had requested and been approved leave for the next five days. He didn't even rise to their suggestive comments about his impromptu trip to a small Southern town.

The only thing Roy could do until it was time for his train to leave was call the local school and try to find out if Riza was still attending or if something had happened, but he was denied the information. He tried to reason with the mistress in charge, but she insisted that Roy wasn't Riza's guardian.

The first half of his day long train ride was spent in a stupor, imagining what could have become of her without anyone to watch over her, wondering if someone else found out about the tattoo, and berating himself for not insisting she move to an apartment in whichever district he was to be assigned. The second half he had fallen into a fitful sleep with his subconscious guiding him through dreams about his earlier thoughts.

"Mr. Mustang," a soft voice called. He ignored it, until it came again, a bit more forceful, "Mr. Mustang."

"Five more minutes, Riza," he mumbled, pushing away the hand shaking his shoulder,

"You'll miss your stop if you wait five more minutes, Sir," the voice explained.

Roy's eyes opened in a flash. "Sorry, I'm awake, thanks," he said, standing so quickly he almost knocked over the brunette who had been hovering over him.

"Who's Riza?" the woman asked, giving him a shy smile.

"Huh?" he asked, pulling his suitcase out from the overhead rack.

"You called me Riza, is she your girlfriend?"

Roy laughed, the thought was surely insane. Riza, his girlfriend, he paled as he realized it wasn't all that insane. She wasn't the same after her father's death. She was independent, strong, and hopeful. Maybe he'd just missed that side of her while he'd been studying her father's books. "No," he said rather quickly, dismissing the image of Riza lying patiently on her stomach while he studied the dark lines on her back, the way she reacted to his fingers on her skin, and how comfortable he had felt waking up next to her.

"I saw your ticket earlier, a two way trip. I'm scheduled for the same train you'll be taking on your way back," she supplied, batting her eyelashes at him.

Roy contained his frustrated sigh and dug around in his pockets. "I'll probably have a change of plans," he told her, handing her a crumpled bill as he walked past her with his luggage in one hand. "Thanks for waking me," he called, grabbing on to the frame of the cabin door as the train slowed. Ignoring the pouting glare aimed at his back, he made his way to the exit as the train stopped.

The chill of the night air in the Southern town always surprised him before, and now, after being gone for so long, the air nipping at the nape of his neck was an assault to his skin, sending tremors down his spine which prompted him to flip up the collar of his coat.

The inn was not his first destination, but the old dilapidated house he knew so well. As he sat his suitcase down on the porch he recalled the first time he stood there, hesitant to knock on the door and anxious for it to be opened. When the door swung open, it was just like that first time, not what he expected, it was actually quite the reversal. Back then, he had expected a middle aged man to open the door, but got a young girl. This time, he expected a young woman to open the door, but had to look down at the young, dark haired boy staring at him. "Uhm, is Miss Riza Hawkeye here?" he asked, clenching his hands in his pockets.

"Mom," the boy called over his shoulder.

Roy's jaw dropped for a moment, his brain working overtime, no it had only been a couple years since, not long enough for a four-year-old.

"Hello," a woman called, rounding the corner from the kitchen to the hallway.

Roy's pulse slowed as he spoke with the black-haired woman, "Hello, I'm Roy Mustang. Is there a Miss Riza Hawkeye here?"

"Oh, she left a bit over a month ago. Quite the sweetheart, you know, giving us a wonderful deal on this house. Sorry, but she didn't leave a forwarding address for us to give you," she apologized.

"Do you know where she went, by any chance?" he asked.

"No," she didn't say anything, but wished us well."

"Did she leave anything for anyone?" he inquired, pulling his hands out of his pockets and rubbing the back of his neck.

"No, she even packed up all those books, didn't she, Mom?" the boy chipped in.

"Oh, yes, she packed up that entire study in one night, and someone helped her cart them all to the train station," she elaborated.

"Who helped her?" he questioned.

"An older man, I've never seen him before. I think he was staying at the inn," she answered, biting her lip in concentration. "No, I can't remember his name. Hair graying a bit, and round little glasses."

"Thank you. I'll go ask around at the inn. Have a good night," he said, picking up his suitcase and leaving as they closed the door against the cold.

His trek to the inn gave him plenty of time to think about the information he'd gathered. She didn't know any of her relatives, and if she wouldn't accept his help, why would she accept it from complete strangers? He was glad the innkeepers were night owls. He didn't have to worry about calling on them too late.

An old homey lady with a shawl over her narrow shoulders and antique oil lantern held in her left hand above her shoulder answered his knock.

The wrinkles on her face made her squinted eyes appear to be closed, but after a moment her face lit up in recognition. "Roy Mustang, why, haven't you grown. Come in, come in from the cold, m'boy," she greeted, waving him in behind her.

"Thank you, Mrs. Brunner. I'm sorry about bothering you so late," he apologized, bowing his head to her and her husband once they got inside.

"Pish posh, you know as well as everyone else in this town that we are practically nocturnal," she said, waving a hand in the air.

"Are there any room empty?" he asked, staring at the staircase he'd helped during his training.

"Rooms, of course, we've always got a spare for you," she replied. "Any good ones back there, Gideon?" she asked the man behind the oak desk with a book in his leathery hands.

"Should be," he quipped, turning away from his book in disdain. "Room 12," he said, handing the key over to his wife.

"This way boy," she called, already heading up the steps in her teetering walk.

"Coming," he called, picking his suit case back up and jogging to catch up with the unnaturally, quick old lady.

"You should join us for some hot chocolate before you turn in lad," Gideon called as he flipped a yellowed page in his book.

"Right, I'll be down," he replied from the top of the staircase.

"There you go," she said, handing him the key to the opened room and leaving him to get settled.

"Where'd you go, Riza?" he sighed as he shed his coat on the bed and dropped his suitcase on top of it. He sat down for on the edge of the bed and buried his head in his hands. "Sensei, I won't fail the last order you gave me," he declared as he pushed off the bed and walked out of the room.

He couldn't quite place the soft melody he heard floating out of the kitchen and up the stairs to meet him, but he could recall hearing it at various restaurants and bars.

Once in the kitchen a cup of the offered hot chocolate was shoved into his hands by the old man.

"You didn't have to if it was going to be such a burden," Roy said, blowing on the rich brown liquid.

"We're old, not senile, we know you have questions, boy," the man grumbled as he took a seat at the table.

"Now, Gideon, if you keep acting like a grumpy old man people are going to say you need to get more sleep," the woman remarked with a chuckle as she took a seat next to him with a mug of her own.

"You're right, I do have something to ask," Roy said as he took one of the two remaining seats at the small round table.

"About that Hawkeye girl?" Gideon asked, taking a long drink from his mug.

Roy nodded, copying the man's actions.

"She left without doing anything but selling her father's house," the woman said

"Hey Beulah, I thought you said it's wrong to reveal a woman's business," Gideon reminded her.

"Ah, but she is not a woman, she's still a child," Beulah explained.

"Women and your tricky ways around things," Gideon muttered.

"Do you know where she went?" Roy asked, looking back and forth between the two.

"No, but we do know who she left with. He stayed here," Beulah answered.

"She left with a man? Who?" he questioned, toppling the chair over as he got to his feet and paced around the room.

"He called himself Leroy Grumman, interesting man," Gideon answered.

"Grumman?" Roy repeated.

"Yes, that was it," Beulah affirmed.

"I think I know him. Did he have glasses, and a moustache? About her height?" Roy asked, gesturing to emphasize each feature. When they nodded he turned away from them for a second to compose himself. "Did he say anything about where they were heading?" When he got an answer of no from the pair he slammed his hands down on the table, causing hot chocolate to jump out of his mug. "Dammit, what the hell does the military want with her?" he shouted, his mind jumping to conclusions.

"Don't yell, boy. We do have other guests," Gideon chastised.

"Sorry, thanks for the hot chocolate. I'm going for a walk or something," Roy said, walking out of the kitchen.

"Don't forget your coat," Beulah called after him. After she heard the door slam she directed a glare at her husband.

"What?" he asked, throwing his arms up above his head.

"You just had to bring it up tonight, didn't you, you impatient old man. You should have at least let him get a good night's sleep first, you old fool," Beulah chastised, hitting him on the back of the head with her empty mug.

"He didn't have to ask," Gideon shot, rubbing the back of his head. "Sometimes I don't know why I stay married to a violent woman," he mumbled under his breath.

"I heard that old man, I think it's time you got some sleep, or you might say something that really makes me violent," she hissed.

Roy rubbed his hands together for warmth as he walked the quiet dark streets. His first stop was the train station, where he was able to find out the next train out of the town would run much earlier than he thought. His second destination was one he hadn't planned, but his feet were quick in leading him to a familiar tree, an apple tree.

It was the same tree where they had first said more than hello, goodbye, or good night to each other.

**:)-------(:**

A.N.- I had way too much fun writing Gideon and Beulah. I'm definitely going to use them in at least one more chapter, probably a flash back. So, the more I write this little guardian arc, the more ideas I have for it. Originally it was only going to take up three of the themes, but now it has expanded to using five themes. Be expecting Grave and Battlefield to come soon to finish of this arc, unless I get another idea to put in with this cluster. Anyone recognize where I took the name Krantz from? Hint-a movie. Well, I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Thanks for reviewing: SilverGothicSweetTooth, Kuroxdoragon, JackSparrow589, ehxhfdl14, Crystal Mage, Syolen, Bar-Ohki, Yun Min, Bizzy, Dailenna, MoonStarDutchess, WinglessFairy25, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Mirage992, YourFavouitePlushie, Chaotic Lullaby, OTP, AnimeLuvr8, DaEvilGenius, Jennlyn78, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Legendary Chimera, SilverCandle, AnnePackrat, KasumiRyumizu, Little Chemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	8. Grave

I don't own FMA

Continuation of the "guardian arc"

Theme 4: Grave

:)-------(

The bark of the apple tree was smooth as finished porcelain as he ran his fingers down the trunk. He pulled away as splintered bark bit his fingers. Perplexed, he sank down to the ground, eye level with the offending bark, and, in the little bit of moonlight hitting the tree, saw the reflection of the light cast off the end of something metal lodged in it. Further inspection led him to notice more circles of splintered wood.

There was no doubt in his mind that this tree was her choice of target practice. He didn't know why, but she had been practicing her aim for as long as he had known her. It had been so odd the first time he saw that young girl holding a polished gun in her hand with her mind lost in concentration.

With visions of her handling the guns he made his way to the local cemetery. His teacher's grave was at the top of a hill beneath a grand laurel tree. The only other tombstone close to it was that of his wife. He did not like to visit this place, not since he'd found out about the research notes.

He didn't need the moonlight to know what words were engraved in the tombstone. After all, he'd been the one to make it. Below the dates of his death and birth lay the words _Loving Husband, Father, and Teacher_, but they were false.

Just as his teacher had told him—one incorrect word could make an entire essay false—and it was one word, drawn out in the pretty, slanted cursive, which was wrong. Father—that man wouldn't have put such a secret on her back had he been a loving father.

Roy knew, as well as everyone in town, that Mr. Jacob Hawkeye gave up on loving his daughter after his wife died, and that the closest he got to anyone after that was the student-teacher relationship he'd had with his apprentice, until said apprentice decided to join the military.

Roy kicked the mound of dirt he stood on. A fresh gust of wind made him bury his hands in his pockets and shiver with the leaves in the tree next to him. He quickly smoothed the disturbed dirt over with his shoe and said a word of apology.

She'd already gotten upset with him for being angry with her father, told him she knew what she had been doing when she'd told him she'd become his notes.

Roy kicked at the dirt again, twice this time, watching it catch in the wind twirling around the cemetery. Of course she'd agreed to help when he asked. She was a lonely girl who had only wanted her father's approval.

He recalled the expectant look on her face at every dinner—her waiting eagerly for just one word of positive encouragement that she was doing well, or thanks, just a sign of appreciation or acknowledgment from her only blood relative.

The way her face always fell when her father took his meal back to his study without a word always made him speechless, and before he'd found anything to say, her father would show up in the kitchen snapping at him to follow if he wanted to keep his studies going.

"I hope you said it that time, Sensei. You better have given her some form of acknowledgment or appreciation when that ink first touched her skin," Roy hissed, sinking down to the disturbed dirt.

He clenched his jaw as he stared at the words on the tombstone. After a moment he bowed his head and chuckled darkly. "I'm even worse than you," he stated, fists clenching in his pockets. "Using those secrets you put on her body and leaving her all alone. I knew she wasn't safe with that thing on her back, and now she's in the hands of the military. What kind of a guardian, a friend, am I?" he asked the black slab of stone.

The only response to his question was the chirping of crickets as the temperature dropped a couple more degrees.

He stood from his spot, letting a cloud of carbon dioxide escape his mouth in a sigh. "I'll find her," he reassured himself as he smoothed the dirt over a final time and left.

"You didn't have to wait up for me," he said as he walked into the main room of the inn.

"I've told you before, we're night owls," Beulah quipped, dusting the ornaments on the mantle place.

"You two don't usually stay up this late. The train comes through early today. I'll be leaving in just over a few hours," he told her.

"Well, you'll have to come back soon and visit, young man. You an' her are just about the only two us old codgers get along with in this town. There rest of 'em just want us to retire and leave the inn for them to run," she said, using the cloth to dust off his dirty pants, getting a jump of surprise out of him. "At least clean up before you leave, and check the cooler. I'll put a lunch for you in there," she told him as she hobbled off in the direction of the kitchen.

"You don't have to," Roy called.

"Pish posh, you're a paying guest and you aren't even going to be here for the provided breakfast, so you'll get a lunch to go instead," the wrinkled old woman insisted before she left the room.

"I'll leave the key on the counter," he whispered, barely loud enough for even himself to hear.

:)-------(:

A.N.-I was finally able to break through my writer's block. Thanks to windxalchemist and a new fic I'm working on called Doom and the Wedding. It's 60 days in the life of Olivier Mustang. A little notice about the guardian arc, it has expanded again. The next piece will be for the theme conversation, and battlefield will be the last. It just keeps growing! Thanks to everyone for reading! ((Why isn't bold working??))

Thank you for the reviews: AnimeLuvr8, Free Hero, OTP, Anne Packrat, Crystal Mage, JackSparrow589, Kuroxdoragon, Ehxhfdl14, Syolen, Bar-Ohki, Bizzy, YourFavouitePlushie, WhiteLadyoftheRing, WinglessFairy25, Dailenna, MoonStarDutchess, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Mirage 992, Chaotic Lullaby, Desert-Storm-Clous, DaEvilGenius, Jennlyn78, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Legendary Chimera, Silver Candle, KasumRyumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	9. Conversation

I don't own FMA

very mild past spoilers

**Theme 30 - Conversation**

**:)-------(:**

Roy didn't take the compartment reserved for military officers on his way back to Eastern, but sat in one of the regular cars with a bench along each side of the train. He would have gone crazy with his thoughts had he sat alone.

He kept himself busy by making small talk with various people around him on the train. For the most part of the ride he spoke with a man about his age—leaving home to go work as an alchemist in one of the bigger cities in the east. Roy almost envied him, being able to do what he wanted with his alchemy, but his own dream to make the country a better place to live put a stop to the tentacles of that emotion trying to wrap around him. Roy wished him the best of luck when they parted.

Now only three hours from his destination, he asked the older man to his left to wake him up when the call for Eastern H.Q. came. The man nodded, and turned his attention back to his book as Roy drifted off into a semblance of sleep, half-awake half-dreaming.

The old man next to him turned into his former teacher—scouring through some of his alchemy notes, making corrections, and then looking over at Roy to make sure he was doing his work.

He looked down at his hands, holding a book, but the words on the page were constantly changing.

Someone on his right let out a sigh—Riza, reading one of her novels again. When his teacher was once again lost in his book Roy nudged her, earning himself a glare—he'd obviously interrupted a heart wrenching moment in her latest bodice ripper. He smirked, whispering a comment about the quality of smut that made her blush. She elbowed him, narrowed her eyes even more, if that was possible, and jerked her head towards her father, warning him that the older man wouldn't approve of their interaction.

Unfortunately, her father had noticed something was amiss and turned to Roy. The tongue-lashing started, but oddly all Roy could hear was his name repeated, and then the shaking started. Suddenly his eyes snapped open and her father wasn't the one shaking his shoulder, but a man with an age-lined face and graying hair.

"We're at Eastern now, the man said, removing his hand from Roy's shoulder.

Roy blinked a few times before he remembered the past two days. "Oh, thank you," he told the man, retrieving his small piece luggage from beneath the bench and standing. He was barely out onto the platform before the train attendants announced the last call for people boarding.

He watched the train pull away as the remnants from his dream flittered from his mental grasp.

His first stop was his dorm room. He needed to go talk to Grumman, but he didn't need to have his suitcase for that. It was times liked these he was glad state alchemists didn't have roommates. He threw the suitcase on his bed and chucked his coat on top of it, glad for the warmth of the day.

Minutes later he was sitting alone in front of a bespectacled older man with a chess board on the desk between them, the man, General Grumman, had only looked at him when he entered, but gave no signs of initiating conversation since he'd closed the door and taken a seat. The man wrung his hand and turned the chess board around, the white pieces on Roy's side.

Roy may not have been an avid chess player, but he knew it well enough to know white went first. "Where is she?" he asked.

The man smiled, looking up from the game to the young man across from him.

"Roy Mustang, I presume. Play a game of chess with me, I'll tell you as we go," Grumman negotiated.

"No strings?" Roy asked, keeping himself alert for any traps.

"None. Just make your first move, and I'll start talking."

Roy looked over the pieces, and moved the pawn in the left corner forward.

"She's been enrolled in the academy," Grumman supplied, moving his pawn from the opposite corner.

"Why, when?" Roy asked.

"She wanted to, and less than a month ago," he answered.

Roy lost his attention for the game after that announcement, all the moves he made done without any logic behind them. He hung on the man's words about Riza's whereabouts.

"She's got quite a nice shot, you know. Not to mention, her reasoning for joining is admirable," Grumman offered.

"Yes, she's got great aim. She's been using a gun since before I knew her. Why did she join?" he asked, eager for the answer.

"To protect someone," he stated, moving his queen across the board. "You've lost your queen, Flame Alchemist. Check."

Roy looked down at the game, and made a feeble attempt to move his king out of harms way. "Who?"

"She wouldn't tell me. All she said was, 'Someone whose dreams are important to her'," he answered. Roy was silent, contemplating her answer. He looked up at the man, cursing the glasses that only reflected the light shining through the window. He wanted to see the man's eyes.

Two moves later. "Checkmate," Grumman announced.

"Didn't she need guardian permission?" Roy asked.

"Taken care of." Grumman replied, keeping the truth from Roy. He needed a way to test the young man in the future. "You're horrible at chess, you'll need to strategize better if you want to become more than a major," he informed Roy, picking up the black pieces and putting them back in place.

"How?" Roy inquired, following suit and setting the white pieces in place.

"Play chess more often. Maybe you play better offensive" Grumman explained with a smirk. He turned the board around

"No, how was it taken care of?" Roy growled.

"Oh, that," Grumman laughed. "Your move. The military has its ways when they find a talented individual."

Roy moved the same pawn as he had in the last game. "Can I have her unit number, so I can write her?" he asked, hating to ask this man for anything.

"She can't get mail for at least another month, you should know that, but win this game, and I'll have Krantz deliver it to her personally. Don't become too predictable," Grumman cautioned.

"You know Krantz?" Roy asked, baffled.

"Yes, he used to work under me when I was a Colonel, until he got hurt and decided to take the job of mail clerk. One of my best," Grumman explained, taking one of Roy's knights with his rook. "He's good with codes," Grumman laughed.

"Tell me about it," Roy huffed, capturing the rook with a bishop.

"I see you've grown serious about the game, she must be important," Grumman concluded.

Roy didn't answer, but watched the man's hand hover between one of his knight and remaining rook. "You shouldn't let opponents know which pieces you value the most so easily," Grumman advised, using a knight to exterminate a pawn getting too close to his side of the board.

"Neither should you." Roy smirked, capturing the man's last rook.

"Touché," Grumman laughed. "You're a quick study, but you haven't learned my secrets yet." He moved his queen forward, to a spot clear of enemies.

Roy hesitated, none of his pieces could reach her, but she could reach them.

Seven moves later.

"Checkmate," Grumman announced. "I have a meeting, but you're welcome to come back tomorrow," Grumman offered, flipping the board over and fitting each piece into its carved out place.

Roy nodded, and helped him put the last few pawns away. "Same time?" he asked.

"Yes, and maybe we'll up the stakes a bit," Grumman said, watching the young man leave his office. He picked up the paper that he had put under the chess board. "He seems promising," he muttered to himself, grabbing a pen and filling out the transfer request form. It would be interesting to have the Flame Alchemist working for him.

**:)-------(:**

A.N.-There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that the next chapter will be the conclusion for this arc. There will be a bit of a time jump, but if I ever get inspiration to write something that occurs between the time this one takes place and the time Battlefield takes place I'll post it and let you know it belongs with this set. Word count-1,340. It's late, and I've looked over this more than a couple times for typos, I hope I didn't miss much. Thanks for reading!

Thank you for reviewing: Crystal Mage, Legendary Chimera, YourFavouitePlushie, WinglessFairy35, Syolen, Dailenna, WhiteLadoftheRing, Bar-Ohki, Pickles the Great, Ehxhfdl14, AnimeLuvr8, FreeHero, OTP, Anne Packrat, JackSparrow589, Kuroxdoragon, Bizzy, MoonStarDutchess, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Chaotic Lullaby, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Silver Candle, Jennlyn78, Legendary Chimera, KasumiRyumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	10. Battlefield

I don't own FMA

**Theme 3 - Battlefield**

**:)-------(:**

Once his letters had stopped, she found herself wishing they hadn't. Of course, it had been all her fault they'd stopped, and maybe her grandfather's, too. Going through the physical has already been bad enough, the more people who knew about the tattoo the quicker the connection would be made. Even the four who knew, her grandfather, his personal physician, Roy, and herself, were too many.

Now, at the Eastern border being ordered to climb the highest towers and wait in the darkest, most secluded spots she wished she had something, anything to read and help her make sense of this existence.

Sure, her bullets did protect her comrades, but in doing so they took down more than a few innocent—well they would have been innocent if not for the war—people of the spiritual culture. She felt ignorant not knowing about the people she killed. Her only knowledge of their race was that they didn't approve of alchemy, but why she didn't know.

She had watched from the dark window of her high tower as the alchemist paved the way for the decimation of small town that was nearly erased from the map. There was no mistaking it—the alchemy borne of her father's notes. From her vantage point she could see each Ishbalan wither in the heat of the flames, get torn apart by Crimson's fascination with iron, fall apart slice by slice from Comanche's blades, and be cornered by Strongarm's walls. Scenes she wanted to look away from, but her duty to watch for strays with an unblinking eye surpassed her desire.

Vision was shimmering with heat rising off the baked dirt, she had to blink a few times to ensure herself that she was indeed seeing two men walking around so idiotically carefree in the ruins of the fallen Ishbalan stronghold.

Then, it happened. Her eyes and fingers working together without any conscious thought trained on the target and applied pressure. She was sure the fair-haired man had never known what had hit him. Through those shimmering waves she made out a familiar face and set her jaw as the other man pointed her out.

It had been ridiculous of her to hope she wouldn't see him during the war. After all, her post was to watch over the alchemists. As they made their way back to the camp, she could hear one of her fellow cadets carefully climbing the steps to take over. Their changing of post went smoothly, with him cracking a joke she forced her self to smile at.

She stared at the blond man as he made himself comfortable. "Be careful," she told his back as she left the small room and descended from her tower.

* * *

The moment her head turned in his direction he wanted to do nothing more than to force her eyes back to the way they used to be, pretend she was playing dress-up, and get her into some normal, clean clothing.

He remembered all right, with every damn snap of his fingers, the grating of the stitched cloth on his dry hands, the sticky moisture of burnt fat coating his lips, and the stench of burnt fleshing turning his stomach.

He and Hughes sat down, and she followed suit, pulling her wrapped rifle to her side.

The tension in the air hung thicker than Hughes had ever felt it, and he slumped his shoulders under its weight. After a few more moments of listening to nothing but the crackling of fire, he forced himself to his feet and mumbled something about getting his rations for the night. Everyone else followed his lead, everyone except for a blonde cadet and sulking major.

"Why?" he asked.

"It was the logical thing to do," she answered.

"The logical thing to do," he echoed, giving a wry laugh. "I was providing for you. You didn't have to join the military. How'd you get around the age requirement?" he barked.

"You aren't my guardian, I can provide for myself. I'm not the type to sit at home knitting, or doing other homely chores that women are so often made to do," she replied, making him look a fool with her cool demeanor.

"I didn't mean that. You could have stayed in school, gotten training in some other area," he explained. "Who signed the—"

"And live a life not knowing what it's being used for?" she cut him off, her voice taking on a sharp edge. "I believed that it…that alchemy would give people dreams and hope, and that it would protect this country's future." She looked from her hands to his. "Please, tell me, Major. Why are soldiers, who ought to be protecting citizens killing them instead?" She finally delivered her last blow, more with her broken eyes and quivering lip than words, as she spoke, "Why is alchemy, which ought to bring happiness to the people, being used for murder?"

Not sure how to answer, his face transformed from anger to sorrow. She had brought him down to a place he had refused to go. It was fine as long as he didn't think about it, but now she had pushed the question to the front of his mind, and he couldn't give her the only answers he had. Saying he didn't want to die and that it was his duty wouldn't be sufficient. "It would seem my goals come with a heavy price," he answered, head hung in shame.

"If you give up now, it'll all be in vain," she hissed, picking up her rifle and walking away.

Roy watched her head in the direction of the sniper camp knowing that he wasn't the only one who kept going to see his goal achieved.

**:)-------(:**

A.N.-And so ends the Guardian Arc. Next, will be holiday AU piece, and after that another holiday-ish piece that focuses more on Roy. Some dialog take directly from chapter 59, Riza's dialog starting with "I believe" (excluding that first it, I threw that in) and ending with "used for murder" all belong to Arakawa. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!

Thanks for reviewing: Crystal Mage, WhiteLadyoftheRing, MoonStarDutchess, Bar-Ohki, YourFavouitePlushie, Syolen, Legendary Chimera, Bizzy, WInglessFairy25, Dailenna, Chaotic Lullaby, Pickles the Great, Ehxhfdl14, AnimeLuvr8, Free Hero, OTP, Anne Packrat, JackSparrow589, Kuroxdoragon, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Mirage 992, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Jennlyn78, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Silver Candle,KasumiRyumizu, Little Chemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	11. Mischief

I don't own FMA

A gift fic for WhiteLadyoftheRing

Completely AU, present time newspaper staff.

**Theme 38 - Mischief**

**:)-------(: **

Jean shivered despite his long coat, scarf, gloves, and beanie. The article on the Olympic figure skaters and the chill in the air was enough to put him to sleep. He frowned at the picture attached to the document, it was a great shot of the contenders, but he wanted something more appealing to his half of the population. Maybe an image of them in those wonderful little getups they wore on the ice. Now, that would definitely wake him up.

He sent the article back to Maria with hopes of instigating some excitement in the otherwise dull office. "If we don't get central heating soon, I'm gonna start working from home," he muttered to himself as he powered down his computer.

He smirked from behind his desk as he heard the familiar click of Maria's low-heeled shoes.

"Jean Havoc, where the hell are you?" she called, looking over at the red-head and grey-haired men staring at their own computers. The two glanced at each other, then at her, shrugged their shoulders in unison, and looked back to their separate monitors.

"You two are so focused on your crosswords and sudoku that you didn't even realize your co-worker is gone?" she asked, baffled at their ignorance. Jean chuckled at her comment.

She spun to face him, her narrowed eyes making him swallow the end of his laugh. "Hiding, are we?" she spat.

"Not at all," he replied, setting the three plugs in his hand on the side of his desk and straightening up. "I'm moving closer to the wall heater," he explained as he shimmied out from behind the desk.

"I'm not going to demean the sport by using pictures of the female competitors in their, as you so eloquently put it, "skimpy attire", just to get the attention of the lewd half of the population. Not to mention, it is also a male sport, and I'm sure you wouldn't want to see the men in their tight, revealing uniforms," she shouted.

"If I wasn't straight, I would," he replied, moving the wastebasket from underneath his desk to the seat of his leather chair.

"Men!" Maria huffed, leaving the room in the same manner she had entered.

Jean shook his head at her antics. "And she thinks we're weird," he mumbled, getting grunts of agreement from the two other section editors in the room.

He easily tugged the desk away from its wall and pushed it across the room where the dusty wall heater stood. Once he was done, he stood with his coat flush against the slatted metal, relishing in the heat that soaked through his five layers of clothing.

"I'm going for a coffee break," he announced, pushing off the heater. A tremor ran down his spine at the cool air that invaded the seams of his clothing and dissipated the heat he'd so recently acquired as he walked out of the room.

His walk across the main office to the break room was halted when the editor-in-chief called to him, "Jean, what was that racket?"

"You're just now asking? What if there had been an accident?" he asked.

"Roy, stop trying to wiggle out of your work. Deadlines are final, even for you," a female voice called from inside the office.

"I was in the middle of something," Roy said, ignoring the voice in his little office.

Jean cocked his head to the side, unsure if the answer was meant for both himself and the editor's assistant. He shook his head at the thought and started to walk away.

"Hey, where're you going?" Roy called, stepping further out of his office.

"Coffee," Jean muttered, resuming his quest for the piping hot liquid.

"I want some too," Roy quipped, sliding all the way out of the office.

Jean turned around just in time to see a blonde pull the man back inside the office. "I'll get it for you. You've got to finish at least half of those documents today, Sir," she said, closing the door on his mortified face.

Jean stood rooted in his spot his face contorted between an amused smile and scowl, afraid laughter would incite the wrath of his boss' right hand woman.

"What kind of stunt did you pull this time?" she asked as she walked past him.

"None, I just asked Maria to use a different photograph with her article," he explained, catching up with her as she walked into the break room.

He sat at the table watching her as she changed out the filter full of used coffee, rinsed the pot, and refilled the machine.

He quickly looked away to the frosted window as she flicked on the switch and turned around.

"It would be nice to be able to get out of here before the snow gets too heavy," she commented, following his gaze.

He nodded, and touched the window with his glove-clad index finger.

"You really shouldn't provoke Maria like that all the time," she chastised, taking the seat across from him.

"I was bored, and cold," he explained, drawing in the fog that collected on the inside of the window.

"If you're bored, I can always send some of Roy's work to you," she suggested, watching as he drew three circles in the middle of a set of leaves.

"I'd rather you didn't" he answered, bringing his hand back to the table.

"I hate mistletoe," she commented, wiping away his artwork with the sleeve of her coat.

Jean frowned and cocked his head to the side. The Riza he knew rarely used the word hate, she didn't let anything get to her like that before, but now she was sitting across from him gazing at the window she'd just wiped clean, her mouth drawn into a tight line, and eyes narrowed.

After a few moments of listening to the dripping of the coffee into the pot he broke the strange silence, "Why?"

"Hmm?" she asked, returning from her thoughts.

"Why do you hate mistletoe?"

"It makes people act foolishly," she answered, keeping her eyes trained on the light snowfall outside.

Jean bit his tongue. Her answer and refusal to meet his eyes made him wonder if she had acted foolishly, because of the season's tradition.

"I better get back before Roy finds one of those sudoku tournament sites Heyman's got him addicted to. If he doesn't get his work done, we'll all be here on overtime today and tomorrow," she explained as she got up from her place at the table.

Jean watched her walk out of the room, unsure if he had seen a bit of a tremor in her hand as she'd poured the coffee, or if it had been his imagination. He sat there for a few minutes contemplating the bit of information he'd gotten out of his college friend. Her hate of mistletoe was definitely a recent development. If he remembered correctly she used to avoid it, but had never hated it. As a matter of fact, he knew she liked the Norse myth behind the tradition from the time their class had discussed it.

He tore his eyes from the white covered street and poured himself a cup of coffee. What he really wanted was a cigarette, but it was too cold to go outside and enjoy the nicotine, and he wouldn't dare lighting up anywhere inside the office after Riza's threat to make him pick up Roy's slack if she ever found him smoking inside again. He knew he should probably thank her for it, because he'd been forced to cut down with her rule, and now he could go all day with only a few without twitching. Not to mention, he'd never noticed how much his habit had cost him.

During his slow walk back to his office he smirked as he saw bits of mistletoe hung from various spot in the office. One in particular, hanging above a certain brunette as she stood chewing on her red pen, looking over an article of Denny's. Denny kept looking up at the plant and to the oblivious woman hopefully. Jean changed directions and walked up behind her. "May I borrow this, Love?" he whispered in her ear right before he planted a kiss on her cheek.

Maria spun around to face him as he plucked the plant from the ceiling with his free hand.

"What are you doing?" she stammered indignantly.

"It's tradition," he explained, brushing off the pink-faced woman as he turned around.

Maria stared at the retreating blond for a moment trying to come up with a witty remark. When her mind failed her she looked back down at the hockey article and turned to Denny. "Are you alright? You look a bit pale," she inquired.

"Why are you looking so smug?" Heymans asked as he glanced up at Jean entering their office.

"No reason, this coffee is good," answered, changing the subject. He took his place on the heater again, and took his time finishing his coffee.

"Closing time," Heymans piped up, his face going dark as the monitor of his computer shut off.

"Already?" Vato asked looking up at the clock hanging above the door.

"It would seem so," Jean contributed, crumpling up the paper cup in his hands.

"What's that smell?" Vato asked, sniffing the air.

"Don't tell me you singed yourself," Heymans remarked.

"I don't smell any…damn," Jean exclaimed, rushing to reach behind his computer and unplug all the loose cords from it.

"What happened?" Vato asked, walking over to Jeans desk.

"Cords got too close to the heater, and the casing around the wires started to melt," he explained, holding up the cords from the end he'd just unplugged.

"Lucky it didn't start a fire," Vato warned.

"Yeah, I know," Jean shot back.

"Kain can get you new ones," Heymans volunteered, joining them.

"I can do it myself," Jean snapped, and walked out of the office. The main office was empty, aside for the few who still needed to work on their returned pieces. He secretly hoped the technical genius would still be in his office working on the network upgrade or fixing someone's computer. He was relieved to see a bit of light escaping from under the door as he approached it.

"Night, Jean," Heymans and Vato called in unison as he knocked on the door.

Jean waved to them over his shoulder as Kain opened the door. "What can I get for you?" he asked, looking up at Jean.

Jean held up the cords with a sheepish grin on his face.

"What'd you do?" Kain exclaimed, inspecting the melted plastic.

"Got too close to the heater," Jean admitted.

Kain sighed, and walked into his office. He opened a couple drawers and procured cords identical to the ones he had taken from the blond. "You need help plugging them in the proper places?" Kain offered.

"Yeah, I hate messing with that kind of stuff," Jean confessed.

Kain handed the cords to Jean and took a minute to clean up his work area. "Let's go," he said, walking over to Jean standing in the doorway, and turning off the light.

As Jean followed the shorter man, he looked over at the little bundle of mistletoe hung just outside the office door belonging to Roy and Riza. Just as with Kain's office, light crept out from under the doorway.

"How'd the cords melt, they aren't close enough to the heater?" Kain asked from his spot behind Jean's desk.

"I had them up one the corner of the desk from when I moved it," Jean explained, indicating the corner next to the heater.

"Oh," Kain replied, crawling out from under the desk and dusting off his pants. Kain held his hands out to the heater for a moment. "It's so cold," he whined. "And it'll be colder outside."

"Yeah, and the longer we stay here the colder it'll get," Jean informed him, walking towards the door. Kain followed after him. He blinked at the main office, which was now completely empty and dark, except for the thin line of light shinning underneath one office door.

"Should we tell them it's time to go?" Kain asked.

"No, he probably has a few things left to do, and if we interrupt him it'll take longer for him to finish," Jean answered.

"Why doesn't she take his job?" the younger man inquired, pushing his glasses up further on the bridge of his nose.

"She'd never do that, at least not to someone who's doing a good job, and he may be a procrastinator, but he's good at what he does," the blond explained, holding open the glass door as his co-worked exited. "You coming tonight?"

"I don't know," Kain hesitated.

"C'mon, it'll be fun," Jean tried persuading him as he pulled out his key and locked the door.

"But I always lose," Kain said.

"Denny will be there, you always beat him."

"Maybe," Kain answered, walking away.

"I'll see you there," Jean called, walking in the other direction.

"Why don't you go home? You probably have shopping to do," Roy said, the clicking of his keyboard stopping as he looked over at her reading a book at her desk.

"Unlike most people, my Christmas shopping is done. I hate having to put up with crowds of the holiday rush, and I won't leave until you've finished. You've only got two articles left," she replied, flipping a page in her book.

"One and a half," he corrected, resuming his typing.

For a bit over a half hour they went on flipping pages and pressing keys. Occasionally, he would ask her for a synonym or read a sentence out loud that sounded awkward to get her input.

"Done!" he declared, jumping up from his seat and stretching.

Her only response was to put a blank yellow piece of paper from her notepad into her book as a place marker and close it. When she looked back up from her book her was standing over her desk. "Yes?" she asked, standing from her seat.

"Just waiting," he informed her.

"You don't have to wait, I'm perfectly capable," she replied.

He didn't show any sign of hearing her, but walked to their office door and held it open. She passed through with a quite 'thank you' and waited as he turned out the light and closed the door.

"Everyone's left," he commented as he turned to face her.

She looked up at him and nodded in agreement, only to have her eyes widen at the sprig of red and green above them.

He noticed her reaction and followed her gaze. "Mistletoe," he muttered, looking back down at her.

She gulped, and he smiled. "Remember that time?" he asked.

"I'd rather not," she replied coolly, her flushed cheeks betraying her.

"I was so surprised, I didn't know how to react," he chuckled. "What was it? The eggnog, is that what you said?"

She nodded. "Yes, that was it. It was far stronger than I expected," she answered, wishing she had been too intoxicated to remember. He was getting far too close to her now, but she couldn't move.

"Maes has always made it that way. I wish you hadn't been drunk," he admitted, taking another step towards her.

"As do I," she agreed, looking down at the speckled tiles.

"That's not what I mean," he stumbled over his words in frustration and let out an irritated sigh. "I mean," he begun, lifting her chin, so she was looking at him when he continued, "I wish you hadn't been drunk when it happened." Before she could process his words, he leant down and followed through with the tradition of holidays past.

**:)-------(:**

A.N.-Now that I've read it over, Havoc might be a bit too suave, but I like it. So, when I wrote this I realized I had no idea how the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe came about, and did some research. Here's a url on information about it if you're interested: http:// www(dot) candlegrove(dot) com/mistletoe(dot) html ((without the spaces)). Rather interesting Norse mythology. WhiteLady, I hope this turned out alright! I can't believe it turned out so long, with RoyAi only at the end. I'm having Havoc withdrawals. Happy Holidays to all, and for those who've finished finals-congrats, those who still have some-good luck

Thank you for reviewing: SilverGothicSweetTooth, Legedary Chimera, Ruingaraf, Free Hero, YourFavouitePlushie, Syolen, Ehxhfdl14, Bizzy, Winglessfairy25, Dailenna, Crystal Mage, WhiteLadyoftheRing, MoonStarDutchess, Bar-Ohki, Chaotic Lullaby, Pickles te Great, AnimeLuvr8, OTP, Anne Packrat, JackSparrow589, Kuroxdoragon, YunMin, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Mirage992, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Jennlyn78, GoldenViolin127, KasumiRyumizu, LittleChemist, Silver Candle, and Hunter-Robin.


	12. Gift

I don't own FMA

Theme 59: Gift

**:)-------(:**

Roy Mustang looked back and forth from the fully furnished room to his new master in disbelief.

"Clean it all out tonight, or go home. I won't take on just anyone as my apprentice, you have to work hard," Mr. Hawkeye told him.

"Where do you want everything?" Roy called as the man started down the hallway.

"It's all rubbish. Just get it out of my sight," his master grumbled before disappearing down the stairs.

Roy groaned and entered the room. The small bit of sunlight coming into the dusty window would soon be gone. With a quick glance he found a lamp on the bedside table and turned it on.

"I'd be a laughing stock if they found out my first day was spent cleaning," Roy told himself as he looked over the black and white photos framed on the dresser.

He frowned at the contents of the frames. The man was clearly his master, but he had yet to see the woman and young girl pictured. He could only conclude that something must have happened to the pair, and that was why his master had buried himself in his research. He stacked the frames together with no intent of throwing them out. He continued his job and opened on of the top dresser draws-empty.

He let out a sigh of relief. He had enough sisters to know about the lacey unmentionables kept in dressers, and he didn't want his master to come back and think he was a perverted teenager. When he got halfway through the set of draws clothing started to appear. Shirts were stacked neatly, and looked as good as new, like no one had touched them for years. He left the drawer open and ventured back out to the hallway where the stack of cardboard sat, waiting to be folded into boxes.

He was opening the last drawer when he heard a squeak and thud from the hallway. He turned around just as someone charging at him. "That's my mother's, leave it alone," cried the small girl as she threw her fists at his chest.

He quickly grabbed her arms to still her. "Who're you?" he asked, taking in her blonde hair and amber-red eyes.

"I'm the one who should be asking you that," she scoffed, glaring into his nearly black eyes as she struggled to get free of his grip.

"I'm Mr. Hawkeye's new apprentice, Roy Mustang" he said, arranging his features so the smirk he often wore was a genuine smile.

"Father doesn't take apprentices," she replied, finally yanking free of his grasp.

"There's an exception to every rule," he countered, holding out his hand to her.

"That one included," she said as she stormed out of the room.

Roy closed his eyes and let himself fall back onto the bed. "I can't believe he didn't say he had a daughter," he told himself, while running a hand through his dark hair. "Maybe his wife is even alive. Did she leave him? Why didn't I ask the people in town about him?" he asked himself as he got back to his feet, and made his way back to the dresser.

He got on his knees and pulled the nearly full cardboard box to his side. He didn't even have to open the drawer all the way to confirm that it was the one he'd been dreading since he opened the first one. He closed his eyes, quickly scooped up the articles of underwear, and dumped them in the box.

The girl reappeared just as he was closing up the box. She walked over to him with her head held high. He dusted off the knees of his pants and waited for her to speak.

"I'm Riza Hawkeye, pleasure to meet you," she said through gritted teeth.

Roy looked from her outstretched hand to her expressionless face and frowned. He shook her hand, which she quickly pulled out of his grasp.

"I'm in the room across the hall if you need anything. I'm supposed to show you around the house when you finish," she told him.

"It'll be a while," he said, looking around the room at the perfumes and jewelry box that lined the top of the dresser. The girl didn't respond, but he saw a flicker of sorrow in her eyes. "Why does he want to get rid of everything?"

"She died four years ago. He hasn't opened that door since then," she explained, turning away from him.

"I'm sorry," he said, and then an idea hit him. "Did you want anything of hers?" he asked.

She shook her head as she kept walking. "I'm not allowed to," she answered.

Roy looked at the pictures a second time and sighed, they had looked so happy together, and now both of them seemed to have faded from the world a bit.

He shook the thoughts from his head and got back to his task. He groaned when the perfume bottles dangerously clinked together in an empty box, the last thing he wanted was for them to break and leave the room full of the smell for months. He opened the box of clothing back up and set them on top of the clothes he wanted to avoid.

He quickly finished with the perfumes and opened the wooden box with roses carved on it. The inside was covered in a deep red velvet material, and boasted a few trinkets. Two pairs of earrings, a necklace, and a set of rings sat in the box. Roy was about to put the jewelry box into cardboard one when he pulled back and opened it back up. With a smile on his face he set it on the bed and scooped up the framed pictures. A few minutes later he added the stack of photographs to the wooden box.

The rest of his work went by quickly, and every now and then he added something to the box, which he hid in the collection of pillows once he was finished.

The moon had been in the sky for more than a few hours by the time he knocked on the girl's bedroom door to report that he was done.

"Where should I put the boxes?" he asked.

"What did Father say to do with them?"

"He said they were rubbish."

The blonde frowned for a second, but quickly gained her composure. "In the attic," she said, pointing to the pull down door at the end of the hall.

"How old are you?" he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Nine," she answered.

"Wow, you act like you're my age," he said as he picked up a box.

She picked up another box and followed him to the end of the hall.

"I'll get them" he said when he turned around and saw her half dragging it across the wooden floor.

"I can do it," she argued, picking it up and slowly walking towards him.

When she got there he had already pulled the door down, made a trip into the attic, and back down.

He grabbed the box out of her hands, despite her attempt to keep it from him. "I'm twelve, I'll be thirteen soon," he said, climbing the steps into the attic again.

When he got to back to the hallway he found her trudging towards him with another box.

"Why are you helping me?" he asked, taking the box from her, knowing the two left were the lighter ones.

"I just want to make sure her things don't get thrown away," she said, almost stumbling backwards when the box she picked up was lighter than she expected.

"It's just been you and him for four years? No one to do the housework or cook?" he asked in disbelief.

"I do that," she answered, following him into the gloomy attic.

He stacked the box on top of the other ones, and nearly jumped when she set the one she had down next to them, he hadn't expected her to be so close behind him.

He took a moment to catch his breath, and cursed the dark of the room, when he faintly registered the sound of a smile in her voice..

"Sorry," she apologized.

"For now, or earlier?" he asked, suddenly glad they couldn't see well, because that smirk had crept onto his face, and he was sure she wouldn't be happy to see it.

"Both," she whispered as she walked back down the stairs.

He hurried past her in the hall to get the last box. She was waiting for him in the room he'd just cleaned out when he finished putting it up and closing the attic door. A stack of sheets and blankets were next to her. "This is going to be your room," she explained. "I'll make the bed when we get back from looking around the house."

"No, I'll do it," he said quickly.

The tour was over quickly, and he was ready to go to sleep before they got back to their room.

"Night," he called as she went to her room.

"Don't forget to get up early," she reminded him as he closed the door.

His luggage sat at the foot of his bed, along with a note.

"Six, just like she said," he told himself as he read the note from his master.

He quickly emptied his luggage into the dresser drawers, put the jewelry box into one of the cases, and stowed them in the empty closet.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, with him helping Riza despite her protests. When he sat down there were only two plates at the table.

"Where's your father?" he asked.

"He only eats out here when he's had a great breakthrough with his research. He'd probably forget to eat if I didn't take him his food," she explained.

Roy gaped, how could anyone forget food? "What about lunch? You go to school right?"

"I leave him fruit and a sandwich, if he forgets to eat it I take it to him when I get home."

"You're only nine?" he asked, feeling more than a bit sorry for her.

She nodded. The rest of their meal was silent, and Roy tossed a coin when she wouldn't let him wash dishes.

"I'll dry them and put them away, you don't even know when they go," she negotiated when he stuck his hands into the soapy water.

When they finished she left the house, and he went to the study as the note had told him to.

"Here's a list," Mr. Hawkeye said, shoving it into Roy's hands as soon as he entered the room.

Roy left the room without a word and went in search of the broken lawnmower he had to fix, and use.

He was lying in his bed when Riza got home from school. "Come in," he called when she knocked on the door.

"Where's father?" she asked, holding a parcel in her hands.

"He went into town to pick up a few supplies and talk with another alchemist. Said he won't be back for dinner," he passed the information on to her as he sat up.

"This is for you," she said holding out the parcel to him. "Father wanted me to get it for you," she explained when he looked at her in surprise.

"Did you know that today is Valentine's Day?" he asked, getting off the bed and walking over to the closet.

"We had a little lunch party at school to celebrate," she answered, watching him with interest as he pulled out his luggage and unzipped it.

"I thought you might like to have this," he said as he pulled out the jewelry box.

"But Father—"

"Finders, keepers," he cut her off. "He said it was rubbish, and that he wanted it out of his sight. Just put it under your bed or something," he told her as he sat down beside her on his bed.

He handed her the box, and she gave him the parcel.

"For your notes," she explained as he opened it to find two journals and a set of pens.

"Thanks," he said and waited for her to open hers. When she didn't he nudged her in the side. "Open it."

She slowly lifted the lid to reveal a small green journal, photographs, and the jewelry. "Thank you," she said, looking up at him with the first smile he'd seen since entering the old Hawkeye house.

"No problem," he said, ruffling her shoulder length, blonde hair as he smiled back. "Do you need any help with dinner?" he asked.

"If you want to help," she answered, closing the box.

"I'm a pretty good cook," he bragged.

**:)-------(:**

**A.N.-** Erm...runs off to hide I'll pay more attention to my fanfiction now. This is my Valentine's Day present to you all! Thanks for reading. Next chapter will be a prequel to the last one.

Thanks for reviewing: Legendary Chimera, Ruingaraf, MoonStarDutchess, Bar-Ohki, Mirage992, Bizzy, WinglessFairy25, YourFavouitePlushie, Chaotic Lullaby, Syolen, Dailenna, WhiteLadyoftheRing, SilverGothicSweetTooth, FreeHero, Ehxhfdl14,Crystal Mage, PicklesTheGreat, Animeluvr8, OTP, Anne Packrat, JackSparrow589, Kuroxdoragon, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, YunMin, SilverCandle, Jenlyn78, KasumiRyumizu, LittleCehmist, and Hunter-Robin.


	13. Song

I don't own FMA

**Spoilers if you haven't read up through chapter 75 of the manga.**

**Theme: Song **

**:)-------(: **

As Riza sat down on the bench in front of the sleek, mahogany baby grand piano, she briefly wondered how the events of the day had gotten her there. In the moment of silence that she took to gather her wits, she was reminded of her reason for being in that regal room by the pang of water hitting the curtained windows. Just as her fingers touched the cool keys, she thought that Roy would have to be careful not to take advantage of certain privileges he'd have when he made it to the top.

_The guard's blue rain coat stood out against the dark, wrought iron gates that encircled the mansion she stopped in front of. After the guard verified her identity, he stomped across the already muddy grass, and gave the signal to open the gate. _

_Another guard at the door of the estate opened an umbrella as she pulled up to the porch and ran to the car door as she opened it. He handed her the dripping umbrella as she got out of the car, and then took her seat when she stepped away. Another man stood at the front door, but he lacked the blue raincoat of the others stationed around the house, for he was fortunate enough to be under the shelter of the overhang. _

"_Good morning," the man greeted as he took the umbrella from her._

Her eyes snapped open, and she had to resist the temptation of turning around when she felt the murderous intent focused on her back. In the back of her mind, she wondered if Wrath was reading her with his ouroboros stamped eye, and, no sooner than she thought it, the murderous intent fizzled away. She continued playing, her thoughts only on the notes she'd memorized long ago.

As the music shifted to the second movement, she drifted away to a swirl of memories again, to the first time she'd ever played _Moonlight Sonata_.

_The piano in the living room no longer held the layer of dust she was so used to seeing, but shined just as it had back when her mother was alive. _

"_Do you want to learn another one?" the boy with midnight blue eyes offered, making her jump from her spot on the bench. _

"_Mhm," she answered with a nod as she straightened her back, and returned to her calm state. _

_In an instant, as if he'd anticipated her answer, he replaced the sheets of music with more, and took a seat beside her. _

"_You play it first," she suggested, looking over the score. _

_He looked sideways at her for a minute, unsure if he should fulfill the request or decline. _

"_I just want to hear it once," she implored. _

_He took a deep breath as his eyes scanned the sheets, and then his hands skimmed the keys until his fingers were in place. _

_It began soft and beautiful, one her mother had played before. _

"_What?" Roy asked at the look of wonder on her face. _

"_Mother once told me that she and Father danced to this song, their first dance," she explained, earning a pat on the head from the older boy. _

A tinkle of laughter pulled her back to the mahogany piano. Someone had opened the curtains, and in the glass she could see Wrath spinning his wife around the living room, around the mess of toy trains and tracks while Pride clapped with a child's enthusiasm. Her mind entertained the notion that maybe his laughter was real, maybe his laugh was mocking the poor woman that thought the man sweeping her across the dark gray carpet honestly loved her. Their act was truly something she found disturbing. Her anger fueled the faster paced third movement; she transitioned to it smoothly, and closed her eyes to block out the sight reflected in the window.

"_You're early Lieutenant Hawkeye,"_

"_My apologies, Mrs. Bradley. Old habits truly are hard to break. I will just wait in the office until he is ready," Riza said, smiling at the woman of the house. _

"_Now, just call me Ana. We'll be having breakfast shortly, and you must join us," Ana insisted, stepping aside for Riza to enter. _

"_No thank you. I've already had breakfast," she replied, excusing herself. _

"_Then a cup of tea. It's this way," Ana said, leaving Riza no other choice, but to follow her._

_Riza took in the surroundings in each room, with the attention for detail few aside from snipers possessed, for future reference._

_They passed a formal dining room a long, unset table, and then entered a smaller dining room with a reasonably sized table, with the two other family members already present. _

_A man setting down plates of eggs and bacon in front of the occupants hurriedly rushed to the seat opposite Wrath and pulled out the chair for Mrs. Bradley._

_Riza clasped her hands behind her back, and took a step away from the table, but Ana would have none of her refusal. "Lieutenant, you shouldn't even be here yet, relax until your shift starts," she coaxed. _

"_She's right, Lieutenant Hawkeye, enjoy some of this fine food," Wrath supported his wife with a grin as he motioned for the man to pull out the chair across from Pride for her to sit down. _

_Riza wearily followed the informal order. _

"_Bring out a dish for her, too," Wrath told the worker, whom nodded and disappeared. _

"_Don't be so hasty, Dear, she's already had breakfast. I'll go tell them just to bring her some tea," Ana excused herself, leaving Riza alone with the two homunculus. _

_The boy across from her looked up at her with a malicious smile, not meant to grace the face of children, but it melted into one of joy as footsteps announced that the other woman was back in the dining room, the worker following after with a tray of tea and plate of food in his hands. _

_The meal was quiet until the boy piped up, "Father, will you play trains with me today?" he asked, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. _

"_Now, Selim, you know your father has work to do," Ana chastised. _

"_He never has time to play anymore," Selim whined. _

_Riza took a sip of the tea that had been placed before her to calm her nerves at the way they acted like a family. _

"_This is a time of unrest in the country, but things seem to be clearing up. The rebellions in Reole have come to an end, and Briggs has defeated the Drachman army again. I'll be able to spend more time at home soon," he explained, sending a smile to his son and wife._

"_It's good to hear that everything is calming down," Ana said._

_The remainder of the breakfast passed quickly, and Riza soon found herself following the trio through the same rooms she had passed not long before. Her eyes caught on a piano she had paid little attention to before, and when she turned her eyes back in the direction of the mock family she knew Wrath had caught her brief moment of nostalgia. _

"_I think I can do some of my work in here," Wrath said as he moved away from the doorway he was headed to, and sat on a leather couch. _

"_I'm gonna get my trains," Selim announced, speeding out of the room, one of the uniformed men following after. _

"_Get my paperwork on your way back," Wrath ordered as he made himself comfortable. _

_Riza stood in the corner in her soldier's stance while Ana joined her husband._

"_Lieutenant, don't you know how to play the piano?" Wrath asked, his smile would have seemed genuine, had she not known the truth. _

"_Yes, Sir," she answered. _

"_Really, how lovely! I've been having lessons, and Selim too, but I'm afraid I need more practice," Ana chirped._

_Riza gave a half smile._

"_Can you play for us?" Pride requested as he entered the room hefting a box of trains and track. _

"_I'm out of practice," she answered. _

"_We don't mind a few mistakes, and a few minutes won't get me behind on my work," Wrath said, motioning for her to head over to the piano. _

_Ana was up from the couch in a second, and at the small bookshelf next to the piano. _

_A sheet of music was in front of her in a flash. "I can never seem to get the ending to this right," Ana confessed._

_Riza smiled at the woman, and looked over the score. She could feel the smirk directed at her as her breath hitched. _

The song was almost over when Riza looked back at the window, and she saw that the dance had ended. The Fuhrer was back on the couch, and his wife stood, with her eyes closed, a look of joy on her face.

As she played the final notes she noticed that the rain had slowed to a sprinkle, softly tapping at the window.

"You're better than my teacher," Selim declared, when the last note left the air.

Riza smile, and gave a polite thank you to him, and the other two clapping. "Permission for a short break, Sir?" she asked, already in her military stance.

"Granted," Wrath answered, picking up a piece of paperwork.

Riza found her way to the bathroom and shut herself inside. While she washed her hands she looked at the shadows, wondering if Pride was watching her even now.

Tearing her eyes from the dark spots, she looked at herself in the mirror, and was glad to see her mask was in place. She was certain that playing that song would have shaken her. She hadn't played it since she joined the military, and now that she had played it for them she felt that part of its purity was gone, all the good memories would be shadowed by this one.

The one childish dream she had was gone. She'd never dance to her parent's song at her wedding.

**:)-------(:**

A.N.- I like to imagine this took place between chapters 79 and 80. I know I was supposed to have up the prequel to the mistletoe story, but I got inspired by reading Choatic Lullaby's _You've Got a Long Way to Go, _and had to write this piece. This is my first time working with flashback so much, so let me know if it worked, or didn't. ReoleLiore. Idea that Bradley's wife's name is Ana(or Anna) from livejournal's Ceruleansan (Not sure if it's canon, I need to go back and check). Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing: Legendary Chimera, Adelaide MacGregor, WhiteLadyoftheRing, JackSparrow589, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, YourFavouitePluchie, Kitsune Moonstar, Bar-Ohki, Bizzy, MoonStarDutchess, Wingelssfairy25, Ruingaraf, Mirage992,Chaotic Lullaby, Syolen, Dialenna, Silvergothicsweettooth, ehxhrdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, AnimeLuvr8, OTP , Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, Desert-Storm-Cloud, Daevilgenius, Jennlyn78, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Silver Candle, KasumiRymizu, LittleChemist,


	14. If I Die

I don't own FMA

**Chapter 50 Spoilers! **

**'-.-'-.-'**

She'd expected the conversation to come at some point in time when they were alone, but she hadn't expected the opportunity to show itself so soon, and they weren't exactly alone.

They were in the middle of a battle with a homunculus, one that could swallow whole chunks of the forested land at once.

"You killed Lust," it screeched as it searched for the Flame Alchemist. Riza took a deep breath as watched the last of the birds left in the area take flight into cloudy sky. As soon as she exhaled, she stepped out of hiding and squeezed off a round of bullets at the wailing blob waddling away from her. She knew at least of couple of the shots had hit home, but it was unfazed, and continued on its path.

Sticking to the brush, Riza pinpointed the location she had seen Roy dive into the shrubbery, and went in search of him. For a moment, she got closer to the gluttonous being and could hear the sound of it sniffing the air in between sobs of rage, and then she moved further into the cover of trees where he sat clutching at the still fresh wounds.

"Do you have a plan, Sir?" she asked as she moved aside his hand to check for bleeding.

"It swallowed my fire…" Roy whispered, running a gloved hand through his hair.

"I noticed that, Sir," she deadpanned, an involuntary smirk pulling at her mouth, even through her attempt to keep it off her face during the inappropriate hour.

Roy gave her a stern look, which only resulted in her attempt of restraint to fail completely.

Roy took a deep breath, and her smirk fell as his brow wrinkled.

"If I die," he started, and she realized for the first time, that his hand was hovering over his wound under his coat. Her ears filled with the pounding of her heart, not from adrenaline, but from shame.

Before he could continue, she was saved from the impending lecture by the familiar rumbling that accompanied the homunculus' trick sounded. After a quick look at each other, they ran in opposite directions.

She didn't give a glance to the approaching monster while she circled around back towards the crater it had left. Her mind registered it screaming for Roy while she found her way into the trees alongside Roy, Ed, Al, and Ling. She was just about to join them when Roy fell to his knees. She stumbled over some exposed tree roots in her haste to get to him, and righted herself just as he looked up at her.

With gentle hands she checked his wound for blood, all the while keeping one eye trained behind her superior, watching the creature waddle towards them.

Her ears pricked up at Ed's voice calling for them to hurry up, and in return she called for him, the sparring between him and Roy replaying in her mind.

"Take off your coat," she demanded, pulling at the left sleeve of said article of clothing. Roy's brow furrowed, but he eased his arm out of the fabric, and let Riza haul him to his feet.

Edward was with them in a flash, and made use of the black coat while Riza led her superior towards the waiting car.

When Roy gave an involuntary shudder, Riza tugged her coat off, and threw it over his shoulders. They hobbled away from Ed and Ling as the blue light of Ed's transmutation faded.

Minutes later, she found herself in the backseat of the car she'd driven earlier with the Xingese girl's head in her lap, while Roy sat besides Knox in the front.

Their talk of Ishval and the conspiracy quickly dwindled down when the injured girl's breathing evened out in her sleep, and a hush fell over the car as they drove along the road that cut through the countryside, the three pairs of eyes searching the dark scenery.

Knox turned on the headlights as they entered the suburbs of Central.

Riza caught Roy's eyes in the side-view mirror, pointedly moved her gaze to the girl asleep in her lap, and then back to him in question.

Roy nodded and cleared his throat, but before he could speak, Knox took the initiative.

"Let me guess, you need a place for her to stay?" he asked.

"I still haven't had time to unpack since we arrived, and he's still recovering," Riza explained.

Knox stuck his hand out the window and let the wind streaming around the car fan out his fingers.

"One favor always leads to another with you," Knox grumbled as he clenched his fist, and brought it back in the car. "Well, my place would be the best if you don't want any officials involved, and my house is empty these days," he grudgingly agreed.

"Thanks," Roy said.

"Just remember this when you reach your goal," Knox reminded him, and once again, their trip was quiet until Riza shouldered the weight of the half awake ninja as they walked up to Knox's door.

Riza could feel Roy's eyes watching her as she passed off the girl to the doctor at his door step.

She was glad for the roar of the engine sucking up the silence that sat between them in the car as she shifted the car into gear.

"What's next, Sir?" she asked as she eased the car back into the street.

"To my place," he answered.

At his apartment building she was aware that someone could be watching them through any of the darkened panes of glass, but the hairs on the nape of her neck did not rise up once in warning of eyes watching them, or the murderous intent that had radiated off Gluttony.

Once they reached his apartment, she was at a loss for what to do, and stood outside his opened door.

Roy was about to turn down the hallway leading to his room when he realized he hadn't heard the door to his apartment shut.

When he saw her staring into his apartment with a confused expression on her face, he let out a sigh and motioned for her to follow him.

With the wave of his hand, Riza crossed the threshold and closed the door with a creak. She was surprised to find that his apartment was in order, not at all similar to the mess of boxes in her place.

"Did you need my help with something, Sir?" she asked.

"We'll need to be in uniform at HQ," he replied as he left her in the living room.

Riza nodded in agreement while she gazed over at the shelf holding a few familiar volumes on alchemy. When she looked back at where he'd been standing, he'd left her there, she made her way down the hall he'd been standing in front of, and found him emerging from the closet in his bedroom with two uniforms in hand.

"What are you-" she paused mid-sentence as her eyes took in the markings of her rank on the shoulders of one of the uniform he held, "doing with my uniform?" she finished.

"Did you really think I threw my uniform in your suitcase on accident during our last assignment?" he asked, shoving the uniform into her hands.

She didn't answer, but took the uniform out of his hands, and left the room.

Roy chuckled to himself, and then groaned at the ache in his side.

As Riza entered the room, she stopped at the sight of him hunched over trying to put the oversized bandage in place.

"Sir, why don't you let me get that for you," she suggested, her hands already hovering over the his.

Roy shot her a scowl through his bangs, but let her take over.

"Do you have a plan?" she asked as she gently smoothed the sticky fabric over his skin.

"First, we have to distinguish between our friends and enemies. Try to get info out of them, and also start adding to out allies. Even the neutral people, if they learn that the Fuhrer is a homunculus, they'll have to take our side," he explained as they finished getting ready, his voice accompanied by the sound of her checking her revolver for bullets.

"The enemy will probably know I was involved in Gluttony's abduction, we must be careful," she reminded him as stretched his fingers in his gloves.

He nodded in agreement as they stepped into the hall. The apartment building was still empty as they marched through the dark halls, eyes and ears alert for any signs of unwanted company.

He stared at her as she drove, and she lifted her eyebrow in question. "Sir?" she inquired as she applied the brakes at a stop sign.

"Lieutenant, if I—"

"Sir, you aren't going to be leaving us tonight," she told him, her eyes firm, and demanding.

Roy broke eye contact with her, and smirked at the passing buildings, he'd never been able to figure out why she had much confidence in him.

They both took a deep breath as the entrance to Central H.Q. loomed into view.

Before he realized they had pulled to a stop she'd opened his door.

"Lieutenant, wait here," he commanded.

"Roger!" she replied while she closed the car door.

He was already walking away, when he looked over his shoulder and told her, "If anything happens to me, make sure you escape."

He stopped mid step when she replied with a firm 'no'.

"It's an order," he reinforced while he turned about to face her, hands planted firmly on his hips.

"I refuse," she replied, her brow knitted in defiance.

He marched back over to her, and set his facial expression to match hers. "How stubborn! A subordinate must always follow orders, no matter what," he shot back.

"I am proud of my pigheadedness," she stated, and titled her head back in a haughty manner.

He turned away from her with a heavy sigh. "Well, I suppose I should be glad I have such faithful underlings. His hands were in his pockets as he walked away. "I get it, I'll return. Just wait for me here," he ordered, glad she couldn't see the grin he couldn't keep from sneaking onto his face.

"Roger!" She saluted to his back. "Good luck."

She dropped her hand to her side as he waved in response.

"Don't die," she commanded under her breath as he disappeared into the lit doorway.

'-.-'-.-'

a.n.-I haven't written anything in a while, but now I'm working on a Halloween fic. It's just about done, and I planned to have it up on the proper day, but things got in the way of that happening. Dialog taken from scanlation up at onemanga, with a few changes to make it flow/sound better. Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing:RoyandRizaRoyai, ChouAoi, Chaotic Lullaby, Adelaide MacGregor,YourFavouitePlushie, Bizzy, Dailenna, MoonStarDutchess, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Legendary Chimera, JackSparrow589, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Kitsune Moonstar, Bar-Ohki, Wingelssfairy25, Ruingaraf, Mirage992,Chaotic Lullaby, Syolen, Silvergothicsweettooth, ehxhrdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, AnimeLuvr8, OTP , Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, Desert-Storm-Cloud, Daevilgenius, Jennlyn78, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Silver Candle, KasumiRymizu, andLittleChemist.


	15. From Yesterday

I don't own FMA

Post-Manga verse, Spoilers for the Ishval Arc.

**Theme: From Yesterday  
**

**'-.-'-.-'**

Remnants of the years it took to get to this place in life were scattered throughout the house: pictures, a traveling chess set, empty eyeglasses frames, cards with bullet holes in them, the gauntlet of a piece of armor, and a pair of gloves. Not just any pair of gloves, white ones with a scratchy feel, strange smell, and faded red insignia.

* * *

Roy shoved the dull, blue button through the wrong hole in his vest as Riza appeared in the doorway of their room, her lips puckered in anger.

Getting ready for the night had already caused a ruckus throughout the household, and he was certainly going to learn of another hitch in the evening's plans.

"What, now?" he asked, trying to keep the irritation tickling his throat out of his voice.

He was on the final button, and noticed his earlier mistake as his hands searched for the corresponding buttonhole. He was still looking at her while he corrected his mistake, but she didn't speak.

Riza gathered her purple skirts and made her way into the room, watching as his hand hesitated over the coat hung on the bedpost. For a minute, she could almost forget the invisible scars. The ones on her back, his side, and the one on his hand, the ones healed long ago by retanjutsu. For a moment, he was just the man she loved, and she was ready to let him whisk her away to the party he was hosting at a beautiful mansion. When he adjusted the lapels of the coat, she could see it there for a moment—the scar from battles past etched into his smooth skin—not dissimilar to the sigil on the gloves she held crumpled in her hands.

"I thought they were locked up," she commented, offering him the wrinkled gloves.

Roy frowned in confusion, and then his eyes widened when they caught a flash of red as the heap of material unfolded itself in her upturned palm.

"They were," he spluttered, eyes darting from the gloves, to her, and back to the gloves.

"Maes found them," she informed him, her tone neutral, as if she was filling him in on the latest mission.

Roy muttered a few choice words under his breath and snatched the gloves out of her hand. "Knowing the Elrics should have taught me kids find a way to get what they want with alche—"

"It's not alchemy," Riza cut him off.

"Same thing, different name," he snapped.

Her knitted brows and red cheeks were enough to warn him to take a deep breath—cool down before her tone matched his. "Sorry, I…" His eyes closed in irritation as he pulled his fingers from his gel covered hair.

Riza let out a sigh of exasperation that sent her bangs flying upwards with her breath. "He's already asking about them…about it," she admitted. "I don't know why I thought we wouldn't have to tell them, thought we could hide it."

"We can't pretend it's nothing, he'll figure it out, and if he tells Chris about it…" Roy stopped himself from thinking about the consequences of both boys pestering them for answers. Without realizing it he'd been clenching his gel covered hand, and as he uncurled his fingers it made a sickening squelching noise.

* * *

They hadn't expected this, no more than anyone else, except maybe one grumpy old man.

Not long after the country had settled, and repairs were well into being made, the amount of swollen bellies they saw was phenomenal, and within a short time, the baby boom had even taken over the lives of their closest friends; one of his sisters, Scheska, Rebecca, and even Winry. They'd been asked on more than one occasion if they planned to have "rugrats", but neither of them had ever considered it.

They had more important things to do, like keeping their country on the right path for the future generations.

Rebecca was already carrying her second child when they found themselves thrown into the beginning stages of parenthood.

When the doctor told them the results of the tests there was relief, then shock. They'd been more than careful. Acceptance washed over them as they left Knox's son's office.

They discussed it that first night.

That was when he tucked away the title Flame Alchemist, and they decided their child(ren) would not learn the secrets he's had to painstakingly reacquire through retanjutsu.

She had those same eyes when they'd talked about it. Those eyes she'd turned on him at the end of the Ishval war when she'd asked him to burn and crush her back. He couldn't—wouldn't let her give birth to another Flame Alchemist.

Their country would still be delicate as lace for years to come, and he didn't want to see an art mainly used for healing turned against people again in his lifetime, nor did he want his own child to suffer the effects of wielding it the wrong way.

* * *

The woman standing before him, in her regal gown of deep reds and purples, was about to crumble behind her angry façade.

Roy laughed when the ex-sniper flinched in surprise as he smoothed her bangs to the side of her face.

"We'll figure it out. We always have," he reassured her(and himself), defeating her scowl with a gentle grin.

She nodded in agreement, and let the knots in her stomach untwist as his arms went around her.

Her head was nearly on his shoulder, when she remembered the hair gel, and shoved him away, the scowl back on her face.

This time it was his brows knit together in concern.

"Go wash your hands, then you'll have to help me untie this," she growled, her hands struggling to get at the ribbon running down the middle of her back.

"Already?" he asked, his voice huskier than it had been moments before, as he looked her up and down lasciviously.

She gave him a sweet smile in response, and sent her hand searching the nearby dresser top as he walked away.

Roy managed a smirk at her before he ducked inside the bathroom just in time to avoid the flying hairbrush.

"A grown man shouldn't be late to his own party," she called after him.

"A grown woman shouldn't be throwing hair brushes at her husband," he replied, his response nearly drown out by a knocking, and then thunder of footsteps racing to the front door.

"Unless he deserves it," she muttered as she left the room .

Riza made it to the door in time to see Elysia take Chris' hand.

"You're still here, Mrs. Mustang?" Elysia inquired with wide eyes. "Mom was practically pushing me out the door, and Mr. Falman passed me while I was walking over."

"We had a few mishaps," Riza explained, then turned her attention to the little fire-fighter. "Elysia can help you pick out two pieces of candy before bed, then we'll go through it tomorrow," she reminded her son.

"Kay, bye," he called, tugging Elysia out the door.

As she watched them walk down the drive she heard Maes ask Elysia about flame alchemy.

Her lips turned down in a frown as she closed the door, and then her ears perked at the nearly silent steps behind her.

A thumb rubbed the base of her neck, right along the line of invisible ink, and then she felt his hands working at the ribbon of the bodice.

"No one would notice if we're a little late, it's a big house," he pointed out.

"We already are late," she reminded him as she left him standing there with the ribbon from the bodice in his hand.

**'-.-'-.-'**

A.N.- This was supposed to be a Halloween fic, but some discussion about the possible existence of RoyAi babies after the manga, over at fullmetal-alchemist(dot)com set me on a different track than I had intended, and thus this came about. Aww, how cute, Falman is escorting Gracia to Roy's party over at the Armstrong estate. Hope you enjoyed it, thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing: Thanks for reviewing: Dailenna, Bizzy, YourFavouitePlushie, Kistune Moonstar, LegendaryChimera, RoyandRizaRoyai, ChouAoi, Chaotic Lullaby, Adelaide MacGregor, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Legendary Chimera, JackSparrow589, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Wingelssfairy25, Ruingaraf, Mirage992,Chaotic Lullaby, Syolen, Silvergothicsweettooth, ehxhrdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, AnimeLuvr8, OTP , Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, Desert-Storm-Cloud, Daevilgenius, Jennlyn78, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Silver Candle, KasumiRymizu, andLittleChemist.


	16. All Night Vigil

**I don't own FMA**

**Manga verse-ish**

**Spoilers for Roy's & Riza's past**

**Theme: All Night Vigil**

**'-.-'-.-'  
**

There was a bundle cookies wrapped in green cellophane, tied off with curled red ribbon on his desk. The fact that none of his subordinates made any jokes about him having a secret admirer, made him notice the similar bundles of cookies on most of the desks in his office.

"Already that time of year again," he mused to himself as he sat down, and glanced over at the one desk without cookies.

The blonde nodded. "Already, Sir," she said when she noticed his gaze.

"Hughes will have plenty of pictures to be showing us, soon," Breda groaned.

"I bet she'll be up all night, hoping to get a peek at Santa," Havoc joked.

Roy looked up from the paper work he'd been trying to combust with his stare, and looked over Hawkeye again, lost in a memory

* * *

The boy sat by the window, slumped over on the piano bench he'd hauled up to the second floor, his eyelids drooping with sleep he fought against during his all night vigil.

His dark eyes fluttered closed in a blink, and when they opened he scanned the night sky with a scowl.

He hadn't expected her reaction to his question. She already had a lot of the responsibilities he'd just taken on at home before becoming her father's student, but he hoped she was still like the other younger kids in the area when it came to that.

His eyes closed again as his mouth opened wide in a yawn.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered to himself.

"Exactly my point, child," a voice snapped.

Roy jolted in surprise at the rough voice.

"You are the student here, not my daughter. Do you think Santa Claus will make it to every house tonight, or that he could for that matter?"

"No," Roy admitted, keeping his eyes on the night sky, so his lecture didn't lean towards more ways to discipline him.

"Then why did you ask my daughter why she wasn't going to put out milk and cookies for Santa Claus," he inquired, nearly spitting at his last words.

"Just making conversation," he explained, shrugging his shoulders.

"Next time, converse on a more intelligent topic, a real one, or don't bother to talk at all," he warned.

Roy nodded in understanding.

"I'll be back to make sure you're still keeping watch for him later."

Roy slumped over again when he heard the man finish descending the steps.

Minutes later, Roy straightened back up as he heard careful footsteps on the stairs. They were lighter than Mr. Hawkeye's steps, but he kept looking out the window in case the man was trying to fool him.

"Mr. Mustang, are you awake," a soft voice called.

"Yeah," he answered, scowling at the way she addressed him. They were only three years apart—there was no need for the formalities her father enforced between them.

"You must be tired," she guessed, more than a hint of worry in her voice.

"I'll be fine," he told her, not wanting her to apologize for her father's punishment again.

"I brought you something," she announced when she reached his side.

His eyes strayed from the night sky for a moment to look at the tray of milk and cookies she held out to him.

"Why?" he asked.

"They'll help you stay awake," she explained, looking out the window, instead of at him.

"Thanks," he said, watching her look out the window.

"My mother used to tell me that he existed in spirit, in peoples' hearts, and brought out the best of us. We always made cookies for father on Christmas Eve, but he wouldn't eat them after she died," Riza told him, tracing a simple outline of a Christmas tree in the moisture collected on the window.

"They're good," Roy complimented through a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie, not quite sure what else to say to her revelation.

When she turned away from the window to face him, he couldn't help but smile back at her—he'd never seen her look so happy in all his months of staying at her house.

"I'll make them again next year," she told him as she walked away.

* * *

Roy looked away from Hawkeye as she opened her mouth, probably to ask him if he was okay, or if he needed anything, and untied the red ribbon. He'd missed her cookies after leaving her father's tutelage, and he wondered for a moment if she'd still made them during that time that he'd been gone.

**'-.-'-.-'**

A.N.-I hope everyone had a Merry Chrstmas/Holiday! Happy New Year! I also hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading.

Thanks for reviewing: Momiji-k, Bizzy, YourFavouitePlushie, Dailenna, Kistune Moonstar, Adelaide MacGregor, LegendaryChimera, RoyandRizaRoyai, ChouAoi, Chaotic Lullaby, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Legendary Chimera, JackSparrow589, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Wingelssfairy25, Ruingaraf, Mirage992, Syolen, Silvergothicsweettooth, ehxhrdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, AnimeLuvr8, OTP , Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, Desert-Storm-Cloud, Daevilgenius, Jennlyn78, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Silver Candle, KasumiRymizu, and LittleChemist.


	17. Coat

I don't own FMA.

Manga-verse, chapters 55+ spoilers.

Prompt: Coat

-;-;-;-

The reassignment orders from the day before had been a surprise to all of them. In one fell swoop, they'd not only taken his central force of support away, but also kept one as hostage.

* * *

Before her shift had even started, she was at HQ, sipping a strong cup of black coffee to ease her nerves. Usually, her morning beverage would be tea, but she had to be as alert as possible, and after tossing and turning all night, she could hardly call what few minutes here and there she'd gotten sleep.

She looked up at the clock and let out a quiet sigh, staring into the nearly empty ceramic mug wasn't making the time pass by any quicker than usual.

Twenty minutes left until she was supposed to report to Bradley for her first day of duty.

Draining the remnants of her coffee, she stood from the bench, and then deposited the cup on the tray of dirty dishes as she left the mess hall.

She had been on her way to the indoor shooting range, but her feet led her down a familiar path to the door labeled "Colonel Mustang".

Staring at the black letters, she contemplated whether she should have one last look at the office.

It wasn't until she pulled the door open, that she realized the light was on.

Roy's back was ramrod straight, his hand floated over a sheet of paper with a slim pen gripped between his fingers, his wide eyes suggested he'd not expected to see her.

"Excuse me, Colonel," she broke the ice.

"Liuetenant?" he asked, half-sure he was hallucinating.

The moment his eyes made contact with hers, she remembered why her feet had insisted on finding their way to her old office. She had to warn him.

"I came to collect some things I left behind," she explained, sure he'd probably be a bit suspicious, she never was one to leave anything behind.

There was a moment of silence while he watched her march to the filing cabinet.

"I see," he replied, the words drawn out in a curious manner.

Near silence fell again, only the sound of his pen scratching parchment, and her hand rifling through the papers making any sounds in the otherwise empty office.

"I hear that Scar is still in the area, Sir," she said stated, sure that was why she'd found herself outside his office. No matter her job description, she'd always worry over him, someone had to. "Edward told me," she explained in his silence.

She couldn't see him, but knew he was leaning back in his chair, staring at the ceiling tiles.

"Scar? I'll have to be extra careful to watch my back," he mused. After a short pause, during which he straightened up, he continued, "After all, I'm loosing a very talented body guard."

If Riza hadn't known him as well as she did, she would have wanted to walk over and give him a smack upside the head—he was being too nonchalant, but it was the way he dealt with most obstacles. She knew a storm was brewing, tucked behind all the careful planning he was putting together.

"That's true, Sir," she agreed as she turned to face him. "Don't get yourself killed, Sir," she ordered.

As she turned back away from him to pick out another file, she wished creatures of myths and legends did exist. She wanted to set Argus to watch over him.

Roy gave a sorrowful smile to her back as she added another file to the stack she was making. "I've loaded quite a burden on you, haven't I?" he asked, his eyes glued to her back, seeing the ruined tattoo that hid under her uniform.

Riza could feel his gaze lingering on her back, his eyes tracing the corrupted lines of the tattoo, and quickly suppressed a shiver.

At his words, her fingertips tightened on the file she was tugging out of the cabinet, and she pulled it free with more force than necessary. When she turned to look at him, she laughed to herself, frustrated and amused that he still felt fully responsible for her "burden". There were three people that were responsible for that load, her father, for putting it there, herself, for sharing it, and him, for using it, but he helped her carry the weight every day. "Perhaps I've placed my loyalties unwisely," she joked, looking over her shoulder at him.

"If you think you've made a mistake, then shoot me. You made a promise to me on that day," he reminded her, breaking the semi-playful tone she'd attempted to set.

Finished with gathering files, she eyed the coat-rack, with two long, black coats hung on it, for a moment, and as she turned to make her way towards his desk, she grabbed one off the rack.

"I think I can tolerate it a bit longer, Sir," she reassured him.

Her eyes softened as he jumped up from his chair with a loud laugh. "You're too good to me, Lieutenant Hawkeye," he told her, the words "thank you" on the tip of him tongue.

She stopped when she was in front of his desk, and after shifting coat and files under her left arm, she clicked her heels together as she brought her right hand up in salute. "'Till we meet again."

"Yes, 'till we meet again," he repeated, returning her salute.

She marched away, only to stop at the door as she pulled it open, and look back at him once more.

It almost felt like one of those moments she'd read of—when two people, usually quarreling lovers, are walking away from each other, they each look back one last time, and their eyes meet, letting them know there is still something _there_—and her stomach flipped at the intensity of his deep blue eyes. She said the only thing that she thought made any sense to say. "Please don't slack off, Sir."

Roy sighed as the door clicked closed, of course she'd remind him not to slack off, but he wouldn't with his loyal team placed in danger.

As he took his seat, he eyed the chess set to his right, and started rambling to himself in review of his situation, inspecting the chess pieces as he did so.

Carefully, he pulled apart the king of the black set, and extracted a small slip of parchment.

The first day in his big, empty office ended without incident, and with the slip of paper tucked away in a uniform pocket he attempted to pull on his coat, only to be dismayed when his arm was too big for the sleeve.

He threw the coat back on the rack, wondering how long it would be before it was safe for him to return it to her, or was she going to be back again to collect the coat she'd left behind, and with those thoughts he smiled at the coat.

When he was still a boy, before his training as a alchemist, he'd had to listen to his sisters go on about their dates, and it hadn't been until years later that he'd understood why girls would take their date's coat home on "accident", or leave something behind. Her motives probably ran a little deeper, they usually did when it came to helping him achieve his goal, but it still reminded him how much she had in common with his sisters.

* * *

Riza pulled the coat tighter against the cool night air as she walked home and wondered what he thought when he'd tried to put the one she'd left in the office on.

She trusted him, knew he'd have a new plan set in motion before the day was over, but somehow being wrapped in his coat made her situation all that much more bearable. A wry grin spread across her face at the thought. She wasn't supposed to be the type of woman who was comforted by a man's coat.

-;-;-;-

A.N.- Argus is a creature of Greek myths with a hundred(-s, depending on the teller of the myth) eyes, the perfect watchman. Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing: alynawatlovers, fated love, blaze aclhemist, royxrizafan, bizzy, silvery mist, legendary chimera, yourfavouiteplushie, adelaide macgregor, dailenna, moonstarduchess, momiji-k, kitsune moonstar, chou aoi, bar-ohki, whiteladyofthering, jacksparrow589, free hero, chibified indian, winglessfairy25, ruingaraf, mirage992, chaoticlullaby, syolen, silvergothicsweettooth, ehxhfdl14, crystal mage, pickles the greath, animluvr8, otp, anne packrat, kuroxdoragon, yun min, the flaming bitch alchemist, desert-storm-cloud, daevilgenius, blaze alchemist, goldenviolin127, jennlyn78, kasumi_ryumizu, littlechemist, and hunter-robin.


	18. Drawing A Boundary Line

I don't own FMA

Warnings: Chapter 94 Spoilers, AU

**Prompt: Drawing A Boundary Line**

**'-.-'-.-'**

"You can't publish that," she said from behind him. He didn't have to look at her to know fisted hands were at her hips. Her stare felt like a gun trained on the back of his head.

"Yes I can," he muttered through gritted teeth. "I get the final say."

"It doesn't always work that way, Sir," she informed him as she made to place her hand over his resting on the gray mouse, but he jerked his hand away violently before she got close.

"This is my story, dammit!" he shouted

"I understand, but you're too involved in it, personally. Let me write it," she suggested.

"Of course I'm involved in it, the bastard murdered my closest friend. I've been following every lead I could get my hands on ever since I saw Hughes' brains splattered on that phone booth," he snapped, furiously clicking the print button on the screen.

In one fluid movement he turned and bound from his chair toward the printer, Riza not a moment behind him, only to have the youngest, and usually wandering, member of the newspaper staff come through the office door and reach it before him.

"Give it to me, boy," he demanded, hand outstretched expectantly.

The boy crumpled it in his prosthetic hand, and firmly shook his head. "Don't call me boy," he spat.

"You know he deserves it," Roy howled.

"Do you want to bring this whole paper down around you. You can't prove everything he did, no one will believe he started those riots years ago, not until we catch this 'Father' guy. The only people who'll believe anything this paper puts out after this work for it."

Roy stopped paying attention to the boy's rant, and turned away from him to go back to his computer, but his most recent enemy-turned-co-worker stood there, plug in his hand, and a black computer screen taunted him.

A feral growl escaped his throat as he spun on his heel to stalk towards the boy again, hand reaching out towards the papers.

"Edwa—"

His shout was cut off when a hand seized the back of his collar and gave a tug nearly hard enough to send him stumbling backwards into the owner of the hand.

After he got over the momentary shock, he pulled this way and that until he was free of that hand. "You're supposed to be on my side, he was your friend, too," Roy spat as he turned his anger on Riza.

"Stop," she demanded, firm in her stance.

Eyes filled with fire, he advanced on her, but she didn't falter an inch.

He got so close she could feel his heavy breath on her cheek as her palm made contact with the side of his face.

Despite the way his face tightened as he clenched his jaw, she stood her ground, returning his glare.

His mouth opened to chastise her, but she spoke first, "Don't make me do that again," she threatened. "You said you wanted to get rid of the corruption in the system, bring the truth to the public, all the while keeping those under you from falling to that corruption, didn't you?"

"That has nothing to do with—"

He was stopped short again as she followed through with her threat.

"It has everything to do with this," she told him, stabbing him in the chest every other syllable. "Everything," she repeated.

His mouth opened and closed, words evaded him.

"You let this piece of scum's leader know you're this close, and he'll rally against you, already has, he'll just use more force. If you let him get you tangled in his web, how will you keep this paper from coming to an end, keep him from getting to everyone else, from erasing the meager evidence we've been able to dig up," she inquired.

"I…I…" he stammered.

"The Great Mustang is at a loss for words?" Ed mocked.

"Edward," Riza snapped, and the boy attempted to look sheepish.

Roy found his way back to his chair as Riza directed Scar to plug the computer back in and Ed to go shred the article in his hand.

He was slumped over in his chair, head resting in his hands when he heard the door close behind to sets of footsteps, and a third made their way towards him.

"Sorry," he mumbled to her well polished, brown shoes.

"Don't be an idiot," she replied, squatting down so she could get a better look at his face.

"He killed Hughes," he choked out, one last time, if only for himself.

"I know," she whispered, placing a hand on his knee to give him some form of comfort.

His only reply was to meet her gaze.

"When we get to the bottom of this 'Father' story, everyone will know," she reminded him.

He nodded and straightened in his chair.

She didn't have to see his face to know he had cleared all signs of fury from it, and replaced them with a mask of calm. Every ounce of focus he had left would be poured into the task she'd mentioned.

She removed her hand from his knee and shifted to reach the power button on the computer tower.

As he turned to face the monitor, he cleared his throat. "I have a file started on everything we've learned about him," he told her as the computer booted up.

"Sounds like a good place to start," she said as she rose to stand behind him.

**'-.-'-.-'**

A.N.: Written for the AU prompt over at fma_fic_contest livejournal. I've written this particular universe before, but nothing ever so indepth as this, and opefully I'll be expanding on this universe at some point in time. I'd like to at least get some writing done about Ed, Al, & Scar's invovlement in this universe at some point in time. I hope you found some enjoyment in tis. Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing: alynawatlovers, momiji-k, adelade macgregor, kitsune moonstar, dailenna, fated love, blaze aclhemist, royxrizafan, bizzy, silvery mist, legendary chimera, yourfavouiteplushie, moonstarduchess, chou aoi, bar-ohki, whiteladyofthering, jacksparrow589, free hero, chibified indian, winglessfairy25, ruingaraf, mirage992, chaoticlullaby, syolen, silvergothicsweettooth, ehxhfdl14, crystal mage, pickles the greath, animluvr8, otp, anne packrat, kuroxdoragon, yun min, the flaming bitch alchemist, desert-storm-cloud, daevilgenius, blaze alchemist, goldenviolin127, jennlyn78, kasumi_ryumizu, littlechemist, and hunter-robin.


	19. In the Dead of the Night

I don't own FMA

Chapter 60 (Ishval Arc) Spoilers

**Theme: In The Dead of the Night**

**'-.-'-.-'  
**

All that lingered over the sounds of crackling firewood were the alchemist's words as they echoed all around—_never forget them, because they won't forget you._

As the echo that shouldn't have existed in the flat desert land puttered out, gunshots rang in her ears. When she opened her eyes from a surprised blink, she found herself looking through the scope mounted on her riffle.

Through it, she stared at red eyes open wide with the shock of death. Ever-so-slowly, blood flowered out of his scalp, down his proud forehead, through his eyebrow, followed the fold of his eye, and, at last, he shed tears matching his eyes.

Her face was damp, and her fingers met the liquid rolling down her cheeks. Quickly, she pulled her fingertips away—they were sticky—and her eyes widened at the sight of crimson. When the warm liquid reached her lips, she tasted blood and smiled—finally, payment for her transgressions.

She woke to the sharp, metallic taste lingering on her tongue. A hand was already wiping away the dampness left behind by tears as she sat up.

The little dog curled up at the end of her bed raised its head to look at her wearily.

"They might as well have been orders," she muttered as fragments of the dream surfaced.

The morning was still dark, but she threw back the sheets. The thought of going back to sleep hadn't crossed her mind—it never did when those faces plagued her.

**'-.-'-.-'**

A.N.: I know I've written Roy's . on nightmares about th war, but not Riza's, so this was something different. The Italicized words are straight from the manga, Kimblee's. Written with a 250 word limit for the prompt Giving Orders over at fma_fic_contest for reading!

Thanks for reviewing: adelaide macgregor, dailenna, kitsune moonstar, alynawatlovers, momiji-k, fated love, blaze aclhemist, royxrizafan, bizzy, silvery mist, legendary chimera, yourfavouiteplushie, moonstarduchess, chou aoi, bar-ohki, whiteladyofthering, jacksparrow589, free hero, chibified indian, winglessfairy25, ruingaraf, mirage992, chaoticlullaby, syolen, silvergothicsweettooth, ehxhfdl14, crystal mage, pickles the greath, animluvr8, otp, anne packrat, kuroxdoragon, yun min, the flaming bitch alchemist, desert-storm-cloud, daevilgenius, blaze alchemist, goldenviolin127, jennlyn78, kasumi_ryumizu, littlechemist, and hunter-robin.


	20. Proof

I don't own FMA

Warnings: Spoilers for Roy's & Riza's past, mangaverse

**Theme: Proof**

**'-.-'-.-'  
**

She tried to hold still, but every so often he would run the pen over a sensitive part of her back, and she would squirm ever-so-slightly at the sensation.

"Do you want to stop?" he would ask, and she would shake her head, careful not to move the tracing paper on her back. Every time he asked in that patient tone, she was reminded of his dreams, the reason she was currently half-naked, laying on her bed, and noted how different he was from her father.

"_Hold still!" he demanded, just as firm as the hand that held her shoulder._

"_I'm tired," she whined. _

"_Then you should be able to stay still," he reasoned, running the brush over her skin._

"_But it tickles." _

"_Almost done, stop squirming." _

_It took all the self discipline she could muster to keep from shivering at the anger in his voice. _

She shuddered at the memory, and silently chastised herself when she felt the pen slide from the spot he'd been tracing.

"We can finish tomorrow, it's getting late," he told her.

"No, it'll be best to get it done all at once," she argued.

"I've got all the major elements. Only the script is left," he explained, pulling the paper off her back. "Besides, I should study this tonight, and you could get out of that position, it's probably uncomfortable after a while," he reasoned.

"He won't go crazy like Father, he's different, stronger," she reassured herself as he left the room, careful to close the door as he went.

She pulled her shirt over her head, sure that how gentle he was so far was proof enough that he was stronger.

**'-.-'-.-'**

A.N.: Anyone else ever think of tracing paper? The only reason I probably did, is because this was written for the theme Trace over at fma_fic_contest at livejournal...sadly, I had a 250 word limit...which I pushed to the max. The good thing is, I added a little bit when I brought it over here. This was also inspired by some discussion over at fullmetal-alchemist .com. Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing: kitsune moonstar, dailenna, adelaide macgregor, alynawatlovers, momiji-k, fated love, blaze aclhemist, royxrizafan, bizzy, silvery mist, legendary chimera, yourfavouiteplushie, moonstarduchess, chou aoi, bar-ohki, whiteladyofthering, jacksparrow589, free hero, chibified indian, winglessfairy25, ruingaraf, mirage992, chaoticlullaby, syolen, silvergothicsweettooth, ehxhfdl14, crystal mage, pickles the greath, animluvr8, otp, anne packrat, kuroxdoragon, yun min, the flaming bitch alchemist, desert-storm-cloud, daevilgenius, blaze alchemist, goldenviolin127, jennlyn78, kasumi_ryumizu, littlechemist, and hunter-robin.


	21. Surprise Attack

I don't own FMA

No Spoilers, but references to chapters 83 & 89

Prompts: New Beginnings, Superstition, & Surprise Attack

**'-.-'-.-'**

Rebecca still couldn't believe her eyes as she sat watching them take the vows to love, cherish, honor, and protect, just as they'd been doing since Ishval—possibly before.

Despite knowing the risks they would have taken with a big wedding, she still wished the guest list had been expanded, she wasn't joking when she'd complained to her friend about the difficulties finding a good guy.

An elbow nudged her out of her thoughts. "She's about to throw the bouquet," Maria said, herding her across the room.

Rebecca smiled at the girl dragging her mom across the room, remembering that this had always been her favorite part of the weddings, yet with age the tradition had lost its magic—how many women had she seen catch the bouquet and remain single for so long afterward.

She blinked as something hit her, interrupting her thoughts. Laughter rang through the small crowd as she caught the bouquet as it rebounded off of her head.

The bride winked at her when their eyes met, and she sighed.

Rebecca picked at the baby's breath in the bouquet, while everyone said their goodbyes to the couple.

"I always wondered why you and Jean never hit it off," Grumman commented, sneaking up beside her.

"Huh?" she replied, confused…they were friends.

"Give the guy a break, he's been talking about you ever since the ice cream truck," Roy said, suddenly materializing in front of her

"You planned this," she accused, glaring at Riza. "It's harassment," she squeaked, trying to dig her heels in the ground as Riza shoved her in the direction of a certain blond with a sheepish grin on his face.

**'-.-'-.-'**

A.N. - Another piece written for the comm fma_fic_contest at lj. The prompt this was entered for was Superstition, with 100-250 word count limit. I held back from posting it for RoyAi Day...if all goes well, I'll post a story everyday until the 13th when the RoyAi Festival ends over at fullmetal-alchemist(dot)com. Thanks for reading! Happy RoyAi Day!

Thanks for reviewing: alynawatlovers, bizzy, kitsune moonstar, dailenna, adelaide macgregor, momiji-k, fated love, blaze aclhemist, royxrizafan, silvery mist, legendary chimera, yourfavouiteplushie, moonstarduchess, chou aoi, bar-ohki, whiteladyofthering, jacksparrow589, free hero, chibified indian, winglessfairy25, ruingaraf, mirage992, chaoticlullaby, syolen, silvergothicsweettooth, ehxhfdl14, crystal mage, pickles the greath, animluvr8, otp, anne packrat, kuroxdoragon, yun min, the flaming bitch alchemist, desert-storm-cloud, daevilgenius, blaze alchemist, goldenviolin127, jennlyn78, kasumi_ryumizu, littlechemist, and hunter-robin.


	22. Premonition

I don't own FMA

Spoilers if you don't know who Roy's alchemy teacher is.

**Prompt: Premonition**

**'-.-'-.-'  
**

Riza jolted as a shrill ringing cut through the otherwise silent air of her father's study—the occurrence so rare that she'd nearly forgotten what it meant.

She turned her attention to the phone and watched as he pulled it closer, positioning the mouthpiece in front of himself, then cleared his throat as he plucked the receiver from it's spot, and held it to his ear.

"Hawkeye Residence," he answered in a sharp, crisp tone that reminded Riza of his lectures about touching his alchemy books, and she immediately looked back to the sheet of word problems her math teacher had assigned for the night.

xxx

"A favor?" he asked the sultry voice coming through the receiver.

"Mhm, I do recall you owing me one," she purred.

"No games, just get to the point," he demanded.

Spotting Riza sprawled on the floor he covered the mouthpiece with his hand. "Riza, I've got an important call, finish up in your room," he ordered.

**xxx**

Riza was quick to gather her book, pencil, and papers.

She may have been only eight, but she knew well enough that something important was going to be discussed and her curious mind almost wished she hadn't noticed the hesitant way her father had said, _"A favor?"_

Giving him one last glance, she pulled the door closed behind herself. He was frowning as he removed his hand from the mouthpiece.

**xxx**

Hawkeye grumbled under his breath as he scribbled away in his notebook, irritated by the fact that looking up at the clock every few minutes was slowing down his research on the most powerful alchemy of all.

"That woman is always late," he muttered, furiously jabbing the dried out quill into an inkwell.

"How can you say that when you're so engrossed in your work that I had to let myself in?"

Startled at her voice(and presence) he jerked, and a black puddle spread across the desk.

"Dammit, Chris," he hissed, scrambling to move his notes out of the ink's path.

Her eyes widened as he dipped his finger in the ink, and started to draw a circle around it. "Wait!" she insisted as he was about to lower his hands to the circle.

He hesitated, but only for a moment, the ink was going to ruin the circle in seconds.

"Roy-boy, come in here," she called.

He slowly lowered his hands, keeping a critical eye on the circle and the other on the door.

A scrawny boy with a mop of jet black hair and Xingese eyes entered, face lighting up when he saw the pose Hawkeye held.

A flash of light filled the room, revealing a mostly ink free desk, a wooden inkwell stood where the center of the circle had been.

The boy looked at Chris, a star-struck grin on his face.

"This is your teacher, Mr. Hawkeye. Hawkeye this is your apprentice, Roy Mustang," she introduced, giving the boy a shove forward when neither party moved.

As Roy stumbled forward, Hawkeye had a feeling he was going to regret ever having been in the debt to the woman who ran the largest information network outside the military for keeping his location secret from him father-in-law.

**xxx**

For the first time since her mother's death there was a car in front of the house.

She ran, trying to push away the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Her pace didn't slow as she climbed the steps to the doors, and she didn't bother to close the door behind her as she ran inside.

"Father," she called out, not noticing the gaggle of girls in the den.

She pushed the study door open, about to call out to him, but the words she'd been summoning died in her throat. Her father was crouched over a boy kneeling on the floor, drawing on the cold cement floor with a piece of chalk where a rug had been thrown aside.

A new question formed on her lips as her father threw candlestick holders from his desk and wood stacked next to the fireplace into the circle, but a woman draped in furs shook her head and put a finger to her mouth.

Riza didn't know why, and would later wish she hadn't, but she obeyed the woman and watched in silence as the familiar glow of transmutation took her breath away. When the light faded a beautiful wooden chair stood in front of the boy.

Riza scowled as her father's eyes twinkled at the boy.

"It'll look better with some polish," the boy said sheepishly to the silence that surrounded him.

Her father ruffled the boy's dark hair. "I thought you said he'd only looked through—" he stopped his inquiry mid-sentence when he noticed Riza, face still flushed from running.

"And who is this lovely little girl," the woman asked, hand resting on her shoulder.

Riza shrugged the woman's hand off, and took a step toward her father.

"My daughter, but you already know that, and I'd rather not have you playing stupid in my house," her father snapped, and Riza saw the boy's eyes go dark for a second.

"Roy, go join your sisters, Mr. Hawkeye and I have a few things to discuss," the woman said, voice growing sharp with the last few words.

**xxx**

Roy nodded, already on his way out when the alchemist spoke. "Take that chair, boy. Riza show my apprentice to the guest room, it'll be his, and get him some polish for that chair," the alchemist ordered, voice just as demanding as his mother's.

The girl, Riza, waited for him, holding the door open as he carried the chair out ahead of himself.

She started to lead him towards the back of the house, but he could hear the voices at the end of the hall, and stopped.

"I want to show my sisters," he said, already turned around and on his way to the den.

He heard an exasperated sigh, but she followed him anyway.

The four girls, all beautiful, but as different from each other as he was from them, flocked around his creation.

"It looks just like the chairs at home, Roy-boy!" Christine pointed out.

The others nodded in agreement, but the girl clearing her throat turned his attention away from their praises.

"I'm supposed to show you to your room," she reminded him, arms crossed, foot tapping on the floor.

Roy briefly wondered if every girl learned that stance in school, he'd seen his mom and sisters take that pose before.

"His room?" Christine inquired, pulling him backwards to her.

He looked up at her. "Yeah, I'm an apprentice now," Roy bragged, pulling himself free.

Their congratulations followed him down the hall as he ran after his apprentice's daughter already halfway down the hall.

**xxx**

Riza glared at him over her plate of scrambled eggs and toast. He had an alchemy book, one of her father's alchemy books, at the table.

She waited for her father to take his seat, but when he did, she was sorely disappointed.

"Still studying?" her father asked, giving the boy a smile of approval.

Riza stabbed at her eggs, upset that her father hadn't told his apprentice to keep his books out of the kitchen where they could get soiled. There was no reason why he should be allowed to touch them when she couldn't.

Her eyes narrowed, and she shoveled her breakfast down. "I'm ready to leave!" she announced when she was finished, smiling sweetly at her father.

"Roy, I'll have something ready for you when you get back," her father said, prompting Roy to leave his unfinished breakfast and escort her to school.

Roy looked at his plate with a frown, he wasn't even close to finished…he's spent most of his time reading...and left the table with a sigh.

The moment they stepped outside, Riza blew a raspberry at him and took off running.

**xxx**

Roy sighed, and started after her. His sisters hadn't trained him for an encounter with a girl like this, but he did the best he could to follow his teacher's orders, even if some of the tasks were mundane, like taking and picking up his daughter from school, and checking her homework.

His flushed face lit up at the thought, he'd make sure she got a few things wrong on her next assignments; she'd stop giving him a hard time then.

Roy huffed as he scaled a fence she'd disappeared over…never had he seen such an athletic girl, either.

He made it to the school in time to see her slip inside with a pack of girls her age, her hair sticking out ever which way and clothes with dirt spots on them.

He held his stomach the whole way home, trying to ignore it's demand for food.

xxx

He wasn't stupid, he'd known what was going on…to some extent. Riza was provoking the boy, he was reacting, and vice versa.

Their games had gone on too long.

He hated games.

He stroked his worried temples as he recalled thinking he was going to regret taking on an apprentice, and sighed. It wasn't that he regretted it, he just hadn't foreseen that it would cause this kind of trouble, he thought the trouble would be different, that the boy and his daughter would grow closer than he wanted them to, now that theory made him laugh, he'd be lucky if they were civil to one another.

He sat on the porch waiting for their return. He squinted when he saw to dark spots moving along the road against the setting sun.

He blinked in surprise—surely they weren't walking at that speed.

He ventured off the porch, protecting his eyes from the sun with a hand at his forehead. As they got closer, he could make out Riza sprinting just steps ahead of Roy, he frowned…so that was why he was always exhausted at the end of the day.

Riza ran with all her might and twisted around to make a face at Roy. Seeing the length she'd put between them with her last bit of effort, she turned around all the way and ran backwards.

Hawkeye scowled as the boy noticed him, and shook his head in disapproval. He watched as his daughter threw her arms up in victory when Roy slowed down.

When she got close enough he reached out and touched her shoulder before she walked into him.

He'd never seen her spin around so fast in her life.

"No more of this!" he demanded, making sure to look at both his daughter and apprentice. Both of them hung their heads at his scolding.

"From now on, you're to treat each other with the respect of peers. You'll address each other with the proper formalities, just as you'd do classmates at school. Mr. Mustang and Miss Hawkeye are the only way I want to hear either of you refer to the other. Riza, since you're so capable of making it home and to school on your own, you will from now on and I expect you to get home just as quickly on your own as you did when Roy was escorting you. Roy, you'll do extra assignments, ones like those Riza has to do for school. Since you've been helping her with her homework she's gotten more marks off than ever before, so you must be having trouble if you can't help her. You don't want me to think of any punishments for breaking these rules. Is that clear?" he asked, eyes challenging them to reply with a _"no"_.

"Yes, Sir," both of them answered together. For a moment he thought they were going to glare at each other, but he only saw the clenching of fists and blazing of eyes.

**xxx**

Days later Hawkeye found himself rubbing his temples again. He didn't know what was better, their games or the tension that now filled the air.

**'-.-'-.-'**

**A.N.-** This was written not only for the theme premonition, but also for the theme of the RoyAi Day Festival, **New Beginnings**, over at fullmetal-alchemist(dot)com. I figure that I usually see fluffy/cute stuff about their childhood (am guilty of writing it), and wanted to explore other possibilities, like Riza being jealous of Roy getting her dad's attention. My goodness, this turned out much longer than I expected, 1985 words, where I thought maybe I'd get 500. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it. Happy RoyAi Day(in advance)!

Thanks for reviewing: RoyxRizaFan, Sweetdeath04, Adelaide MacGregor, JackSparrow589, Kitsune Moonstar, Alynawatlovers, Bizzy, Dailenna, Momiji-k, Fated Love, Blaze Alchemist, Silvery Mist, Legendary Chimera, YourFavouitePlushie, MoonStarDutchess, Chou Aoi, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Winglessfairy25, Ruingaraf, Mirage992, Chaoticlullaby, Syolen, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Ehxhfdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, Animluvr8, OTP, Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Jennlyn78, Kasumi_Ryumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	23. Parting

Pre Manga Verse, timeskip continuation of last chapter

**Theme: Parting**

**'-.-'-.-'  
**

Riza would never forgive her classmates for putting the idea in her mind.

"Oh, he's here for you again," Juliet teased, wiggling her eyebrows at Riza.

"Only because my dad makes him," she brushed the girl off. "You don't know what he's like, you can have him," she grumbled, sticking her tongue out at the brunette.

"Like he sees any of us," someone behind her joined in. Riza looked over her shoulder in time to see a wink aimed in her direction.

Riza sighed. "It's only because of that criminal the military is trying to catch, my father doesn't trust the military," she explained as she left her group of friends to their own devices.

She could tell from his smirk that he knew her friends had been talking about him, and she scowled at him.

"Don't make that face at me, it's not like I have a choice about being here if I want to continue my studies," he reminded her.

Riza didn't have a response to that, so she walked past him in silence.

Quite suddenly, she became uncomfortably aware of his eyes on her. She fiddled with the frayed end of the book bag she carried over her shoulder as she mentally agreed with her friends that maybe, just maybe, he was in fact a bit handsome.

Disgusted at traitorous thoughts, she shook her head to clear them away.

"Something wrong?" he called.

She shook her head again, both in reply to his question, and to the niggling of her conscience telling her he wasn't so bad after all.

The need to free herself from thoughts about her father's apprentice overwhelmed her, and she ran.

"Oi!" he cried out from behind her. "Not today," he half groaned, half shouted.

She laughed, remembering that he'd never been able to keep up with her all those years ago when her father had made him escort her to and home from school.

Wanting to see how far behind he was, she looked over her shoulder, and her eyes widened when she found he was barely a step behind her.

"Surprised?" he asked, that damnable smirk still in place.

"No," she growled, narrowing her eyes at him, and blaming the heat she felt rush to her cheeks on physical exertion.

Without warning, she turned off the road, and scrambled up a fence.

The fence moaned beside her, and she looked over in time to see him easily scaling the chain-link, his height giving him a slight advantage in the climb, but she had more practice at this, she refused to let him get ahead.

They both landed on the soft grass at the same time, letting out matching "oomphs" at the impact.

A quick, challenging glare passed between them as they both continued running.

"I remember your little obstacle course very well, Miss Hawkeye," he said between breaths, mocking her with the formalities her father had set upon them.

"Like you could beat me anyway, Mr. Mustang," she fired back, jumping over a stretch of muddy grass.

"We'll see about that," he grunted, mirroring her actions.

As soon as the house was in sight, she picked up her pace, her surroundings blurring around her, everything but her goal and the tuft of black hair she could see out of the corner of her eye merging together.

"First one to the porch," she declared.

"No, through the fence, I don't fancy getting punished," he said between breaths.

"Fence," she panted in agreement. "I win, you take me to the fair, father won't let me go alone," she wagered.

"I win, no more running," he countered.

Her hopes of seeing friends outside of school vanished as Roy pulled ahead in a sprint she hadn't expected out of him.

"Why won't he let you go?" Roy asked, panting as he tried to catch his breath.

"Doesn't trust the military police," she explained, breath just as labored as his, confused as to why he cared, why now, after all these years.

"Why? They're here to protect the people, just like state alchemists are to help the people."

"Why do you care all of a sudden, anyway?" she snapped, storming into the house.

Roy followed after her, shaking his head. This was one girl he would never understand.

He looked down at his clothes and sighed, his teacher would put him through the ringer if he showed up for his last lesson of the day with dirt all over.

When he passed Riza's room she was at her desk, staring at a homework assignment.

Before reaching his room he double back and stood just outside her room.

"I was already planning on going to the fair, I'm meeting someone there, if you wanted to tag along," he offered.

"Why?"

"Why not?" he answered, shrugging against the door frame.

She searched his face with suspicious eyes for a moment, and then nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Mustang."

"No more running, or calling the things I've transmuted ugly," he lectured.

"Sometimes your taste is—"

"Miss Hawkeye," he cut her off.

"Fine, agreed."

**xxx**

Mr. Hawkeye couldn't believe his senses…the usual tension at the dinner table was missing. He looked between his daughter and apprentice, and got a troubled feeling in his gut.

"What happened today?" he inquired.

"I'm going to the fair," Riza answered.

He looked over at his apprentice in surprise.

"You've agreed to accompany her, Roy?"

"I was going to go anyway," he admitted between mouthfuls of stew.

"Oh, well then, don't get into any trouble," he said, directing the words more at his daughter than apprentice.

When they left, he sat in his study, wondering when things had changed between the two.

**xxx**

Roy didn't know whether to be glad she absorbed in the games with her friends or not. Her friends had made it easy for him to keep her focus off of him. But, now he had to worry about a whole group of teenagers.

"Roy," a familiar voice greeted from behind him.

"Sergeant," he replied, saluting the man, despite his civilian clothes.

"Good news for you, boy," he started.

Roy looked over at Riza, engrossed in a game of popping balloons with darts, and back to the man with dark eyes. "Good news?"

"You passed all the entrance exams, scores high enough to get you into the academy early, but there's some bad news," he explained.

Roy nodded, still keeping an eye on the group of girls.

"The train leaves tomorrow morning."

"That soon, huh?" he said, to give himself a second to think.

"Not another one for two months, but then you'll be going to a different region."

"What time, tomorrow?" he asked.

"0900 hours."

"I'll be there," he agreed, shaking the sergeant's outstretched hand.

"I'll put you on the roster tonight."

Roy watched the man walk away, anxiety building inside.

"Was that who you were meeting?" Riza asked.

Roy nearly jumped, he hadn't noticed her breakaway from her friends until that moment.

"Yeah…we should be heading back soon, I've got a lot to do tonight," he said, waving to the group of 14-year-olds staring at him.

"Let's play that shooting game first," she negotiated, already on her way towards the booth.

She saved him a spot, and then shoved a pellet gun at him as he stepped up to the counter.

"Who was that?" she asked, taking aim at a tin duck on a conveyor belt.

A metal plinking sound filled the air as the duck as knocked over.

"A friend."

"A friend from the military?" she asked, taking down another duck.

A baffled look found its way onto Roy's face as he tried to answer.

"I've seen him at school. He's the one in charge of recruiting people from around here," she explained.

Roy didn't respond, but took a shot at the ducks passing in front of him. When the man running the booth took the pellet guns back, Riza looked at him quizzically.

"You've got horrible aim," she pointed out as the man handed her a teddy bear.

"Everyone's got something they can improve upon," he defended leading her away from the fair grounds.

"When do you leave?" she asked once they were away from the crowds.

"Huh?"

"I already told you, I know he's a recruiter, when do you leave?" she repeated.

"I'll be out of your hair tomorrow, and then you can have your dad to yourself again," he answered, irritated that she'd figured him out.

Riza held the bear close, looking down at the dirt road they were walking. "He's better when you're here," she confessed in a whisper.

"What do you mean?" Roy questioned, feet glued in place.

"Sometimes, when you're gone visiting your family all he does is pour through his books, mumbling about needing to perfect it," she admitted.

Roy put an arm around the younger girl's shoulder and pulled her close. "He just wants to finish something he's been working on for a while. It'll be better once he's done," he promised, noticing for the first time that this girl did have weaknesses like other girls.

"When are you going to tell father?" she asked.

"Tonight."

"You should get everything together first, he might make you leave the house after you tell him," she warned.

Roy frowned, he'd heard her point out his hate for the military on more than one occasion.

"Why, I just want to be able to protect and help people. That's what the military does."

"Not always," she sniffed.

Roy tried to get her to tell him how she came to her conclusion the entire way back to the house, but she was silent.

**xxx**

He'd done as she suggested and packed before finding his teacher in the dim study.

"It took Hawkeye a few minutes to notice the presence of another in the room, but when he did, he looked at Roy, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.

"Did you have a question this late?"

"No."

"Then, what is it, I'm in the middle of something important," he snapped.

Roy gulped. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

Hawkeye blinked. "Leaving?"

"To the military academy," he extrapolated.

"The military? Why?" Hawkeye growled.

"I want to help protect this country and its people, maybe become a state alchemist," he explained.

"You don't need the military to do that," Hawkeye snapped.

"I'll be able to do more with the military than on my own," he said, voice tight.

"Fine, go."

"But, I'd—"

"Leave my sight," Hawkeye roared, picking up an inkwell to throw at his former apprentice.

Roy clenched his jaw and fisted his hands as he left the room. "Goodbye," he said as he pulled the door shut, looking at his teacher one last time. He sighed when he noticed the man was already immersed in his research again. He hoped for Riza's sake that the man finished his project sooner rather than later.

xxx

Riza didn't know where he stayed that night, but she found him at the train station in the morning.

"What're you doing here?" he asked when he spotted her.

"I just wanted to say goodbye…and good luck."

"You didn't have to. Won't he get mad if he finds out?"

"He hasn't come out of his study since last night. Didn't even lift his eyes when I put breakfast on his desk," she explained.

Roy frowned. He opened his mouth to speak, but Riza shoved something in his direction. "Here, you left this."

Roy took the rectangular object from her and flipped it over. The first picture he'd taken as a Mustang stared at him, and he smiled at the girls crowding his younger self, while his mom kept him in place with hand planted on his shoulders.

"I can't have anything like that for the first couple months, hold on to it for me?" he requested.

Riza nodded, and took it back.

The last call sounded, and he turned away to board.

"Practice your aim!" she shouted over the sounds of the train.

**'-.-'-.-'**

**A.N.-**This one turned out to be a monster, also. My goodness, I feel like I lagged, because I didn't get out the two pieces I had specifically planned for RoyAi day until the day was nearly over for me. Also, Riza is about 13/14 in this while Roy is about 17. The theme New Beginnings was kept in mind while writing this. Thanks for reading! Happy RoyAi Day! Thanks for the edit, Dai!

Thanks for reviewing: Dailenna, Silvery Mist, JackSparrow589, Gimpyslair, Kitsune Moonstar, Hand-Made-City, EveryStep, RoyxRizaFan, Sweetdeath04, Adelaide MacGregor, Alynawatlovers, Bizzy, Momiji-k, Fated Love, Blaze Alchemist, Legendary Chimera, YourFavouitePlushie, MoonStarDutchess, Chou Aoi, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Winglessfairy25, Ruingaraf, Mirage992, Chaoticlullaby, Syolen, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Ehxhfdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, Animluvr8, OTP, Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Jennlyn78, Kasumi_Ryumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	24. Why

I don't own FMA

Alternate!Reality/Manga Verse, spoilers up till revelation of Pride's identity.

**Theme: Why?**

-:-:-:-**  
**

A soft knocking on the door pulls you from rooting for the heroine stalking the antagonist through the streets of Central. "Just a moment," you call using an old, empty envelope to mark your page. Stretching as you get up from the couch, you can't help but frown at the interruption of your first day off in ages, and after Gracia had even come by to take Hayate off your hands for the day.

When you open the door to find him standing there with roses looking so handsome that your speechless you know this must be a dream. A dream, because he wouldn't be so cliche as to come to your door with roses of all flowers.

So, while he smirks at your stunned expression, you usher him inside. Surely, in a dream, it can't hurt.

His smirk turns into a smile as you accept the roses. You close your eyes, inhaling the soft fragrance, and when you open them again, he's already hung his coat on a hook by the door.

You question for just a moment if this is a dream, because the stems that poke out of paper wrapping the bouquet are damp and a bit cold to the touch, but you shake it off.

He follows you to the kitchen and watches as you riffle through the cupboards wondering exactly where you kept that vase, if you would even find it, if it mattered, the roses weren't even real.

"Found it," he announces, pulling the vase from the cupboard above the refrigerator.

He sets down a case of beer that you can't recall seeing in his other hand when he entered, but you were distracted by the roses.

That's when it strikes you that maybe this isn't a dream, if it was he wouldn't have brought beer, it would be something more romantic.

"Is this real?" you wonder aloud, and he laughs as he fills the vase with water, but his laughter is sad and dull. And that is when you know it's real, he's only sad in your nightmares, and this can't possibly be a nightmare.

"You can't stay here. You have to go!" you demand, panicked eyes darting from him to the shadows.

He sets the vase on the counter and drops in the roses without removing the paper. When he looks at you, you flinch at the sorrow etched in his eyes.

"I'm a fool," he mutters to himself.

"Yes, you are," you agree, but he doesn't move.

"Riza."

You freeze. He never calls you Riza, not even in your dreams.

"Sir?"

He sighs and buries his handsome face in his hands. You wonder when the scar of his transmutation circle faded so much.

You watch as he walks to the bookshelf and picks up the newspapers you'd meant to toss out before you got so caught up in that book.

"You don't have to worry anymore," he says in a weary voice while handing you the papers.

Your eyes get hot with tears as you read the headlines. "_First Lieutenant Hawkeye Honorably Discharged as Colonel After Taking Bullet For Fuhre_r", "_Conspiracy Uncovered in the Wake of Fuhrer Bradley's Death_".

"What happened?" you demand, not bothering to even skim the articles or go through the rest of the papers.

"They say that when he went down, you hit your head pretty hard, didn't wake up for a while, and when you did, you couldn't remember," he answers with a patient, but tired voice and dark eyes a storm of emotions.

"Why?" you demand. "Why can't I remember?" Your cheeks are hot, your ears, and eyes, too. All you want to do is tear those papers to pieces and wake up from this nightmare.

"Amnesia," he says, voice cracking.

You shake your head at him as he takes a step toward you. "No," you hiss, "this is a joke, a cruel joke." You want to believe your words, because it's your last option since you haven't woken up.

You fling an arm out, pushing him away as he reaches for you.

He manages to get his fingers around your forearm, and you don't know if he's trembling or if you are, but one of you is. You try to pull yourself free to no avail.

Suddenly, you remember the shape shifter Ed told you about, and you stare at him. "You're a homunculus, aren't you?"

His grip loosens and his head sinks to his chest as he shakes with laughter. Not the kind that makes you want to join in, not the kind that makes you freeze with fear, but a disturbed laugh of despair that makes you want to go comfort him.

You don't pull away, just stare in dismay at the crumpled papers in your hand.

When his laughter fades he releases you completely, and your arm falls to your side.

He lifts his head and looks at you, his face full of frustration for the first time since he walked through the door.

You apologize as a single tear clears the way for more down your cheeks.

He's a blur as he closes the distance between you and him. His strong arms encircle you, and you stand there soaking his blue shirt with your tears and snot until it seems you couldn't possible have anymore fluids to drip.

You wonder how many times he's told you, how many times he's seen you cry over it, if it will ever stop.

You wish it was a nightmare, wish you could wake up where, no, when he was.

Wish it was as simple as opening your eyes.

-:-:-:-

A.N.: Interrupting the young Roy and Riza fics I've got going to post this here. There will be a Roy P.O.V. on this AR, and then back to the young Roy and Riza. Greatly influenced by a line from the song Slide by Goo Goo Dolls Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing: Alynawatlovers, WargishBoromirFan, RoyxRizaFan, Dailenna, JackSparrow589, Legendary Chimera, Kannami, MoonStarDutchess, Craziestanimefan, Deniece, Gimpyslair, Winglessfairy25, Everystep, Silvery Mist, Kitsune Moonstar, Hand-Made-City, Sweetdeath04, Adelaide MacGregor, Bizzy, Momiji-k, Fated Love, Blaze Alchemist, YourFavouitePlushie, MoonStarDutchess, Chou Aoi, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Ruingaraf, Mirage992, Chaoticlullaby, Syolen, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Ehxhfdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, Animluvr8, OTP, Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Jennlyn78, Kasumi_Ryumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	25. Feigning Sleep

I don't own FMA

Manga Verse/ Alternate Reality, spoilers up to Wrath revealing how his eye works. Continuation of last chapter, different point of view.

**Theme: Feigning Sleep**

-:-:-:-

He held her close as she sniffled into his shirt, silent sobs racking her body.

She looked up at him through her bangs, her amber irises surrounded by traces of red.

"It's okay," he whispered, planting his hands on the sides of her face and brushing her cheeks dry with his thumbs.

"No," she began, shaking her head and effectively breaking eye contact with those searching eyes of his. "I promised I would follow you, even to hell," she reminded him, her eyes studying the dark spot she'd left on his blue shirt.

"You followed me as far as you could," he argued, lifting her chin until she's looking at him again, but she defiantly looks past him.

His gaze follows a few more tears as they travel down her cheeks, and he stretches his thumb to meet them, but she beats him to them with her own hand.

"Why would I take a bullet for him?" she demanded as she finally allowed her eyes to meet his again.

It was his turn to shake his head. "We don't know. More than likely, he saw it coming and was able to use you as a shield," he explained as he pulled his hands from her face

"Saw it?" she echoed, her skin tingling at the loss of his warmth.

Roy nodded. "He explained it to us, his eye allowed him to see the best way out of any attack, and quite quickly, too."

"Who killed him?"

"The Briggs soldiers, the Xingese Prince, his body guards, it's hard to say exactly who," he answered as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Mrs. Bradley, she's?" she asked, hoping the blissfully ignorant woman hadn't been harmed.

"She and a friend of the Elrics named Rose headed the restoration efforts in places where the country wide transmutation circle caused problems," Roy paused for a moment and laughed. "You know, Fullmetal once told her she had to keep moving forward, and she told Mrs. Bradley the same thing," Roy rambled.

"The Elri—"

"Are fine. Al has his body back, and Ed's not quite a shrimp anymore," Roy mused.

Riza smiled up at him, glad that although she didn't quite get a happy end the brothers had.

As she smiled that sad smile at him, he came undone. It was one of two choices, either break down right there, or kiss her so that all he could think about was the here and now.

She almost pushed him away, but the hunger of his warm lips made a need bubble up inside of her, and her arms were around his neck.

His fingers released the clip holding her hair.

They were stumbling backwards.

"Are you okay?" he asked when she grunted into his mouth as she backed into the wall of the hallway.

She nodded and pulled him back to her by the collar.

Her fingers tugged at the buttons of his shirt. His hands pulled at her shirt, untucking it from her pants.

-:-:-:-

He laid in her bed, listening to her even breathing. He'd pretended to fall asleep first. It had been hard to keep his breathing even when she'd started to cry, but she'd forced herself to stop almost as soon as she'd started, told herself it wasn't worth it. He was sure she'd figure out he wasn't asleep when she'd put her head on his chest, sure his pounding heartbeat would reveal him, but she hadn't noticed any irregularities, and he was almost glad for it.

Almost.

He carefully lifted her head and moved out from under her, replacing his chest with a pillow.

He watched for a moment as she shifted, unconsciously making herself more comfortable.

Quietly, he picked up the clothes that was scattered across her bedroom floor.

Her clothes went into the hamper she kept just outside her bathroom.

Inside the bathroom, his reflection scowled at him, berated him, and he would have smashed it, but couldn't bring himself to wake her up with the sound. Couldn't work up the courage to reveal everything to her, again, so soon

Instead, he turned on the cold water and splashed his face with it.

Redressed, he took the roses from the vase, dumped the water, and returned it to the cupboard over the refrigerator.

The newspapers crinkled in his hand as he put them back in order and on her bookshelf.

Beers and roses in hand, he opened the door.

In the hallway of the apartment building two men sat playing chess. They saluted as he stepped into the hall.

A soft yapping drew his eyes under the table to where Hayate sat, his leash tied around the leg of the chair the older man sat on.

Roy halfheartedly returned their salutes and made his way over to the table.

The older man untied the leash as Roy crouched to pet the dog.

"Take care of her," Roy ordered, and the dog ran through the still opened apartment door. Roy closed the door as the dog vanished down the hallway to Riza's room.

The men eyed the beers eagerly, but Roy tightened his grip on them and left without a word.

He would need them…and more.

-:-:-:-

A.N.: Didn't turn out quite as I'd intended it to, but it eventually wound up where it was supposed to. Well, that ends this alternate reality, next we're back to them growing up. Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing: RRForever, YourFavouitePlushie, OTP, Illuminating-Darkness, Hand-Made-City, Legendary Chimera, Alynawatlovers, WargishBoromirFan, RoyxRizaFan, Dailenna, JackSparrow589, Kannami, MoonStarDutchess, Craziestanimefan, Deniece, Gimpyslair, Winglessfairy25, Everystep, Silvery Mist, Kitsune Moonstar, Sweetdeath04, Adelaide MacGregor, Bizzy, Momiji-k, Fated Love, Blaze Alchemist, YourFavouitePlushie, MoonStarDutchess, Chou Aoi, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Ruingaraf, Mirage992, Chaoticlullaby, Syolen, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Ehxhfdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, Animluvr8, Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Jennlyn78, Kasumi_Ryumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	26. Betrayal

I don't own FMA.

Companion piece to chapters 22 & 23

**Theme: Betrayal**

-:-:-:-

She kept reminding herself of Roy's words, telling herself that tomorrow would be the day he snapped out of it.

When she returned home from school and the plates of food she'd left out for him remained untouched for the second day in a row she took dinner to him in his study.

He was on his hands and knees on the floor, mumbling to himself as he wrote a strange text around an intricate array he'd drawn on the cement floor.

All the rugs had been thrown aside haphazardly, books laid open, scattered across various points of the array, so unlike any array she'd even seen before.

"Father, you need to eat," she implored, planting her feet in his line of view.

His gaze traveled from her feet to her eyes, but from the glazed over look of his eyes she doubted he really saw her. "Almost done, almost," he murmured.

She sighed and put the tray over the blank spot it looked like he was going to fill next.

Before she went to bed, Riza cracked the door of the study to see if he'd eaten.

He was hunched over a spot of text in the array. He studied it carefully, spit on the cuff of his robe, and then erased a word.

She spotted the tray on his desk. The food didn't seem to have been touched, but the glass of water had been emptied. She looked back to him and he was replacing the word he'd scrubbed out with another one. She heard him mumbling and hoped he was reading the strange text, not talking to himself.

-:-:-:-

When she woke, she looked into his study as she passed it by, and he sat snoring in his chair.

She took her time fixing eggs and toast for breakfast. He was awake when she entered his study with another tray. He looked up from the paper on his desk and smiled at her.

Riza was startled by the smile, but didn't let it show.

"How would you like to help me?" he asked as she picked up the dinner tray and replaced it with one laden with breakfast.

"With alchemy?" she asked, caught off guard.

He nodded.

"Sure," she agreed, and he smiled at her again, a smile that reached his eyes, a smile like the ones she remembered, like the ones in pictures she'd stowed away from before her mother's death. A warm pleasure pulsed through her veins, made her skin tingle, made her smile back at him, made her believe Roy's words.

"Really?" he asked.

"Mhm, I promise."

"Do you have school today?"

She nodded.

He pulled open a drawer and she could see him silently counting out money. "Here," he said, holding out a red pouch to her.

She moved the tray from the night before to her side, holding it close against her waist, and took the money with her free hand. Her eyebrows shot up at the weight of it.

"I need ink, lots of ink."

She nodded again.

"As much as you can buy with that, black preferably, but it really doesn't matter if it's all the same color."

She nodded. "I'll get it on my way home from school," she promised.

"Good girl," he murmured as she left his study. He moved the tray of breakfast over, it was blocking his view. He looked between the array on paper and to the one on the floor. He noticed part of it had smudged, and he wasn't sure if he had done it or if she had, but it needed to be fixed. He pulled a fresh piece of chalk from a drawer and carefully lowered himself to the array, making sure his hands didn't hit the floor at the same time.

"Can't put it here," he mumbled. "Not on paper either," he argued with himself. He couldn't see how he could keep this information so easily accessible to any alchemist that wandered by in the future. A giant array on the floor could be discovered and even destroyed just as easily as on paper.

He fixed the array and shuffled back to his desk.

"But where? How?" he asked the plate of scrambled eggs.

He heard the front door creak shut and was hit with inspiration.

With the agility he'd had in his younger days, he jumped up from his chair and ran to the kitchen. He pulled open drawer after drawer, shaking his head at the silverware, but grabbed a handful anyway. Through the cupboard he went until he found the glasses. He pulled them one by one out of the cupboard until it was nearly empty.

Then, he climbed up the stairs and made his way into a room he'd avoided for years on end. He hoped the boy hadn't been so heartless as to throw all her things out when he'd told him to clean out the room, and after much knocking and stomping on floorboards, he found a couple loose pieces of wood when moving the bed aside.

He gingerly lifted the floorboards and found a stash of his wife's things under them. He marveled at the boy's ingenuity, the little cubby hole had been made with alchemy in the layer of cement that made up the floor of the second story.

He found her sewing needles and paint brushes mixed in the first box he opened. Not bothering to put things back in order in the room, he took the entire box with him down to the kitchen. With a strange gleam in his eyes, he loaded the glasses and silverware into the box.

Its contents clinked together as he rushed to his study, not caring if they broke.

He quickly cleared his desk, putting everything on the floor beside it.

After a quick study of the needles, glasses, and silverware, he pulled the chalk from his pocket and drew an array on his desk.

He dumped the gathered glass, needles, and silverware into the middle of the array. When the light died down he smiled at his finished product.

-:-:-:-

When she got to the dirt path leading to her house, she turned to the boy following her. "Thanks, Terrence, I didn't realize they were going to be that heavy," she said, and held out her hand for the paper bag he held.

"I'll walk you to the porch," he offered and walked past her before she could protest.

Riza rolled her eyes at her classmate's insistence.

"Really, you didn't have to, thanks" she said once they stopped at the stops to the porch.

"It's my job," he said, going red in the cheeks as her hand touched his when taking the bag from him.

"I'm sure you don't usually go this far on deliveries."

"For you, I don't mind," he flirted.

Riza couldn't help the blush that rose to her cheeks. No one had ever been so direct with her. "Uhm, well, I'll see you next week," she said and rushed up the stairs to the door.

"Have a good weekend," he called as she closed the door behind herself.

Riza shook her head at the flutter in her stomach as she made her way to the kitchen.

She had to glance at the drawers and cupboards twice to make sure she wasn't seeing things. The cupboards and drawers hung open as if someone had been searching them for something.

"Father?" she called, running to his study. "Father?"

The room was dark, but she could see him at his desk. "Father," she said through a relieved sigh.

"Your back, did you get the ink?" he asked eagerly.

"Yes, but dinner first or else it might be hours before we eat," she demanded, and then turned away and left him there.

She was closing the cupboards when he shuffled into the kitchen.

He was removing everything from the bags when she finished. "No black?"

"No, Mr. Leck wouldn't let me buy out the entire stock of it for fear that he'd loose business," she explained.

"Red's good," he murmured as he held the glass inkwell up to the light. The liquid gleamed the color of blood in his hands.

He put the ink back in the bag along with the rest and looked into the bag of food, his mouth watered and stomach grumbled.

"We're having chicken salad, and I got a loaf of fresh baked bread," she told him.

"It's still warm," he commented as he pulled the bread out of the bag it sat in by itself.

She nodded.

"Can I help?" he asked.

Riza looked over at him with concern. "You don't have to," she told him while he pulled the vegetables out of the other bag.

"I want to…I may not have cooked in a while, but I'm still as capable as they day I started teaching you," he explained.

"You could chop vegetable for the salad," she suggested as she found a knife for him to use.

"I could do more," he volunteered as she handed the knife to him.

"There isn't much else to do. The chicken has been marinating all night in the refrigerator," she explained.

"Oh," he said, at a loss for words.

The chopped up chicken sizzled as she dumped it into the heated cast-iron-skillet.

Her eyes followed his hands as he reached for his robe pocket.

"Father," she pleaded.

"It's faster with alchemy," he remarked, but his hand went to back to the knife instead of his pocket.

"It won't take any longer than cooking the chicken," she said. The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and she looked over at him anticipating a scolding for talking back to him.

When he just laughed, she relaxed, but not completely. He was acting strange, and she wondered if something had happened while she was at school.

An hour later, they both sat at the table and ate the chicken salad with slices of buttered bread.

She smiled as she ate, marveling at the fact that he was actually at the table with her.

When he finished, she took his plate for him.

"Don't worry about the dishes, what I need to do will take all night," he told her as he followed her into the kitchen to grab the bag of ink.

She plugged up the sink and filled it with soap and water to at least soak the dishes. He drummed his fingers on the counter while waiting, but didn't show his impatience any other way.

He heaved a sigh of relief when she followed him to her study.

He turned on all the lights in his study as they entered, and then scooped an old button up shirt up from his desk.

"Go put this on," he ordered.

She took it and made her way out of his study.

"Backwards," he called.

She shook her head, wondering why he would possibly want her to wear the shirt backwards, but didn't question him.

He worked quickly to unload the bag of all but one inkwell and transmute the ink into his creations which he stowed carefully back away in the bag.

When she returned wearing the shirt backwards, he was pushing the sofa close to his desk so he would have to best light in the room. She hurried over and helped him.

"Lay down on your stomach," he told her, and she did.

She started to doubt him when he unbuttoned the shirt and then unhooked her bra.

"Father?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"It's okay, I just need your back for a little bit," he reassured her.

Something cold and wet was one her back, she squirmed.

"This'll go faster if you hold still," he said patiently.

She nodded.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him reference a paper on his desk every couple of minutes.

"Beautiful," he muttered to himself as he placed the thin paintbrush on his desk.

She started to sit up, but he held her shoulder in place.

"That was just the guidelines," he told her.

She didn't understand. Guidelines for what? She didn't realize she'd spoken aloud until he shoved a paper into her view.

"For this, my greatest creation, the most destructive, yet wonderful alchemy ever," he proclaimed.

"Father?" this time a plea as she saw the vial filled with ink attached to a thick needle that he pulled out of the bag.

She hadn't noticed the little, spare generator beside his desk until then.

"No," she said as he hooked it up to the generator.

A churring sound filled the room as the needled worked up and down, a drop of ink fell from its tip onto the desk.

"You promised you'd help," he reminded her.

"I-I didn't know," she stuttered.

"Promised," he repeated, using all the strength he could to keep her from rising off the couch.

"Father," she begged as he brought the little machine to hover over her back.

"Promised," he roared.

A sob escaped her lips as the needle touched her back. Not physical pain, not yet. Just the feeling of betrayal that twisted her insides, burned her throat, and made her regret having had dinner first.

"Hush, and don't move," he demanded, applying more pressure to the shoulder he held down.

She bit her lip against sobs when the pain started. She tensed her body against the needle, but that only intensified the pain.

He pulled away to get another ink filled machine. When her eyes followed his hand, he brought the machine closer to her face. He tapped a piece of metal wrapped around where the needle and glass met. "There's a coil in there, it takes the electricity to a little gear that moves the needle," he explained.

She puked on the floor. He cursed, pulled her hair as it came loose from the hair band that had been holding it in a bun.

"Put your hair back up," he demanded, but she couldn't, she wouldn't, she wouldn't help him. She was still puking.

He hurried to the desk drawer he'd pulled money out of earlier and quickly found a pair of scissors.

He gathered her hair into his ink-stained hands and pulled it tight.

"No!" she screamed.

"You should have put it up when I asked," he hissed.

She tried to sit up, but he used his elbow to hold her down while he cut through her hair as close to her head as he could get.

She wailed in protest and he threw the hair across the room. It scattered across the chalked-on floor and shone in the lights he'd turned on hours ago.

She cried in silent tears, she would have sobbed, but the pain that ran through her body as the sobs jolted it hurt too much, she was too weak for anything more than the silent tears.

"You're horrible," she growled weakly.

"You promised," he snapped.

"Not to this," she whispered. "Never to this."

"You're my daughter, my flesh and blood, mine to do as I see fit with," he murmured into her ear.

He pulled away and laughed.

She broke at that maniacal laughter. That wasn't her father, that was just a shell, a monster only pleased with completing research. Roy Mustang had lied, her father had lied, and her mother had lied. It wasn't going to be okay.

She screamed as her back stung with the touch of the needle. The edges of her vision went black. The black crept inward until she couldn't see anymore. She panicked for a moment, and then her thoughts grew fuzzy and eventually ceased.

-:-:-:-

Her eyes blinked open to pain. Her back teemed with it. Pain like she'd never felt before. A million tiny cuts all merging together.

She tried to push herself up from the couch. Her nose wrinkled at the putrid smell. She remembered and emptied her stomach again.

He started awake at the sound.

"In the bucket," he shouted, shoving it towards her.

She purposely missed.

"Stay there, I'll get you some water," he told her.

She watched him hurry out of the room, stunned. How could he do that to her, and then go for water when she puked.

She was crying when he returned.

"Shh, shh, it'll be okay," he cooed. He rubbed her shoulders, but her body only shook harder at his words and touch.

"It hurts," she whimpered.

"I know, but it's beautiful," he reassured her.

"No," she cried, pushing his hands away as best she could.

He looked at her, heartbroken that she couldn't be calmed.

He picked up a rag from another bucket and mopped up the puke.

"It'll only hurt for a couple days, it might itch after that, but not hurt," he informed her.

She turned her head away from him, buried it in the couch cushion.

He sighed. "I had no other choice," he told himself more than her.

She didn't move.

When he finished cleaning the puke, he left the room and returned with another bucket of water. This one he poured on the floor. He used the mop to scrub away the lines of chalk. He couldn't let anyone discover it unless he wanted them to.

He laughed as he used a match to burn the paper it was drawn on. How ironic, using a match to burn the paper that held the secrets to manipulating fire, he thought to himself.

"One day, you'll understand I've entrusted you with the greatest secret of all," he told her.

She snorted.

"I'll put some lotion on it later," he called to her as he left the study.

She suddenly understood why her father trusted no one. The pain of betrayal was too much. She closed her eyes as hoped for something to happen, for her father's precious work to be destroyed somehow.

-:-:-:-

A.N. - This turned out differently than I was originally planned, because I somehow lost the file that held the first half of this chapter, and had to start from scratch with the few ideas I'd jotted down in a notebook. Another on the long-ish side. Hopefully I got all the typos, I spent quite a while just re-reading it when I couldn't get to the document manager to upload for reading

Thanks for reviewing: Legendary Chimera, Adelaide MacGregor, JackSparrow589, Hand-Made-City, YourFavouitePlushie, Everystep, RRForever, OTP, Illuminating-Darkness, Alynawatlovers, WargishBoromirFan, RoyxRizaFan, Dailenna, Kannami, MoonStarDutchess, Craziestanimefan, Deniece, Gimpyslair, Winglessfairy25, Everystep, Silvery Mist, Kitsune Moonstar, Sweetdeath04, Bizzy, Momiji-k, Fated Love, Blaze Alchemist, YourFavouitePlushie, MoonStarDutchess, Chou Aoi, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Ruingaraf, Mirage992, Chaoticlullaby, Syolen, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Ehxhfdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, Animluvr8, Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Jennlyn78, Kasumi_Ryumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	27. Promise

I don't own FMA

**Theme: Promise**

-.-.-.-.-

Hawkeye rummaged through her drawers, looking for the stash of chocolate she kept on hand for when she got cravings around a certain time of the month, but no matter how much she moved things around the chocolates were nowhere to be found.

She grumbled to herself as she closed the drawer and looked up at the clock. Seven hundred hours—she had plenty of time to do some investigating before anyone else showed up.

Without a second thought, she went to Mustang's desk and pulled a bobby-pin from her hair—suddenly glad for the quick lesson in lock-picking snipers received.

She grinned as the lock clicked and pulled the drawer open to find it full of the fountain pens Mustang preferred to use. Her eyes landed on a green pen and she snatched it up, glad to have her favorite pen back.

She closed the drawer, glad to hear the lock click back in place on it's own—re-locking it would have taken a while.

The rest of his desk was rather empty—a word search book and highlighters in one drawer, the chess set Grumman had given him in another, paper clips, rubber bands, and staples in the last drawer.

"I was sure it was him," she complained to herself as she walked over to Breda's desk.

-.-.-.-.-

Fuery looked over at Hawkeye as he entered the office, surprised by the thunk her pen made as she dotted an 'i'.

"Morning Lieutenant," he greeted.

She looked up at him, eyes hard and unreadable as she seemed to search him. "Morning Sergeant," she returned the greeting once she seemed to be through with her scrutiny.

As he sat down, she stood. "If anyone's looking for me, I'm on my break, Sergeant," she told him as she left the room.

He nodded, looking after her as she walked away. She disappeared from his sight and he heard a familiar chorus of hellos.

"Was Hawkeye late or something? She seems to be in a mood," Breda observed as he entered the office with Havoc and Falman on his heels. Havoc was staring down the hall and almost collided with Falman when the Warrant Officer stopped to hang his coat on the rack.

Fuery shook his head. "She must've gotten here early, she's taking her break already," he answered.

"Break, already? Doesn't she usually wait until…"Havoc trailed off, digging his cigarette box from his coat as he tried to remember when she usually took her break.

"Ten hundred fifteen hours," Falman filled in.

"And it's barely nine hundred hours," Havoc finished.

"Maybe she's got an errand to run," Fuery suggested.

"Who's got an errand to run?" Mustang asked as he walked in with a mug in hand.

"Hawkeye," Breda answered.

"Maybe," Fuery added. "She took an early break."

Mustang shrugged, feigning disinterest as he took a sip of his coffee.

-.-.-.-.-

Hawkeye made sure to make a scene of dumping the chocolates into her desk drawer, crinkling the bag as it emptied out.

Once all thirty two pieces were in the drawer, she slid it closed and continued reviewing the reports on her desk.

Once she finished with the marksmanship certificates that needed her signature, she made her way to the shooting range to take on another group hoping to get certified.

-.-.-.-.-

When she returned to the office, Mustang sat at his desk with a highlighter in his hand.

"Bored?" she asked, making him jump.

"It's easier to get done when everyone's gone," he explained as he scanned the puzzle.

"And paperwork isn't?" she asked.

He shrugged and put the cap back on the highlighter. "I guess I'll go join the others for lunch."

She grinned triumphantly at his fleeing back as he left her alone in the office.

She wasn't surprised to find there were only twenty nine chocolates in her desk, and did a quick inspection of the other desks, only to find they were all chocolate free.

Grumbling, she got a chocolate from her drawer, unwrapped it, and popped it in her mouth, tossing the wrapper in the trashcan under her desk.

Her eyes widened as she savored the sweet.

She pulled the trashcan up to her chair and grinned when she saw the only piece of trash in it—the wrapper she'd just discarded.

Sure she'd find her culprit, she pulled the trashcan out from under Mustang's desk, but it was empty. Breda's turned up a broken pen, Havoc's a cigarette butt, Falman's a finished crossword, and Fuery's some stripped cables.

Annoyed with her lack of evidence, she went to lunch.

-.-.-.-.-

Hawkeye was tired, all night she kept waking up with hare-brained ideas to find her thief.

She made a stop at the mess hall and got a cup of coffee hoping it would wake her up.

Once, she got to the office and switched on the lights, she stood in the doorway blinking in dismay at the coat hung on Mustang's chair. Finally, she realized he wouldn't have turned off the lights if he was there—he must have left it behind from the day before.

She set her coffee on her desk and took her coat off—the change from her coffee jingle in the coat pocket as she hung it on the rack. She stared at the coat for a moment—her brain trying to tell her something.

She reached out and shook her coat. The change jingled again, and she turned to look at Mustang's desk.

As she hurried over to his desk, she knew she had him. She dug her hand into his coat pocket, producing a collection of chocolate wrappers that pinned him as her thief.

Grinning, she extracted a bobby-pin from her hair and picked the lock on his drawer of pens again.

She made herself comfortable in his chair as she scrawled a hasty note and went to work taking each pen apart and removing the ink.

Once she was done, she locked the ransom not away with the empty pens and took the little tubes of ink to her locker.

-.-.-.-.-

Hawkeye was, for the first time in her career, too distracted to do her work. Instead, she kept glancing from Mustang and back to the same report over and over until he put away his word search and unlocked the drawer of pens. He picked out a red one and uncapped it. After a few moments of looking over a report, he tried to sign it, but only managed to make an indentation in the paper. He shook the pen and scribbled furiously on a piece of scratch paper, but got no result. He set the pen aside and picked up another one, only to get the same outcome.

He growled and the others looked over at him.

Finally, he found her note and his face paled.

"Hawkeye," he said, his voice a bit louder than usual.

"Need to borrow a pen, Sir?" she asked, her tone sharp and eyes challenging.

His shoulders slumped and he sighed. "Yes."

She smiled and picked up the pen she'd set aside for him—one she was sure was about to run out of ink.

Not an hour later, he was grumbling again, furiously scribbling on his scratch paper again in hopes of getting the pen to work. He let out a cry of triumph as it started to work again. Hawkeye rolled her eyes.

Not ten minutes passed before he was grumbling again—this time he was shaking the pen. When he noticed she was smirking at him, he stopped. "Hawkeye, it's not funny," he complained.

She shrugged and went back to her work.

"Really?" he asked.

"Really, Sir," she replied, not looking up from her work.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Fine, I promise," he said hurriedly.

"Hmm, promise what?" she asked, raising her eyebrow as she looked over at him.

"Not to help myself to your chocolates," he huffed.

She nodded and left the office.

"Hawkeye, come back," he called after her.

She ignored his calls and continued down the hall.

-.-.-.-.-

When she returned to the office, everyone stopped their work and stared at her.

Havoc clapped as she dropped the handfuls of ink onto Mustang's desk. Breda snorted as he tried to hold back his laughter.

"I think I'll take my break now," Hawkeye said and walked back out of the office.

"Awesome," Havoc muttered as he stared after her.

"So you want to help me put them all back together?" Mustang snapped.

"You do the crime, you do the time, Boss," Havoc recited.

"Women and their chocolate," Mustang growled as he began taking his pens apart.

-.-.-.-.-

A.N.-Just something silly that popped into my head the other night. Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing: Cristipotter, .Allure, Legendary Chimera, Adelaide MacGregor, winglessfairy25, Lin, MoonStarDutchess, Kistune Moonstar, JackSparrow589, Hand-Made-City, YourFavouitePlushie, Everystep, RRForever, OTP, Illuminating-Darkness, Alynawatlovers, WargishBoromirFan, RoyxRizaFan, Dailenna, Kannami, Craziestanimefan, Deniece, Gimpyslair, Silvery Mist, Sweetdeath04, Bizzy, Momiji-k, Fated Love, Blaze Alchemist, YourFavouitePlushie, Chou Aoi, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Ruingaraf, Mirage992, Chaoticlullaby, Syolen, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Ehxhfdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, Animluvr8, Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Jennlyn78, Kasumi_Ryumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	28. Things One Cannot Understand

I don't own FMA

Continuation of chapters 22,23, & 26

**Prompt: Things One Cannot Understand**

-.-.-.-.-**  
**

Riza stared in the mirror, mourning the loss of her hair. She picked up the little hand mirror that had belonged to her mother and used it to get a look at the back of her head.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she surveyed the hasty cut her father had given her hair. She blinked and straightened her lips into a firm line.

"_No crying,_"she told herself. "_I won't let him have that power over me. It's only hair, it'll grow back._"

Her shoulder smarted as she held the mirror. She briefly wondered if the bruise from where he'd held her down was gone yet. She rolled her shoulder in its socket, hoping to work out the ache.

Putting the pain in the back of her mind, she used her freehand to grab the scissors that lay on the sink counter. She steeled herself for itch that would crawl across her back, and turned her head so she could get a better glimpse of her hair. She had to make it at least look decent before she went anywhere, or else she'd have to face even more questions. The scissors gleamed in the light, and she hesitated for a moment.

_Snip_

She looked away from the mirror to watch the golden lock as it floated down to her feet. A sigh escaped her lips as she turned her attention back to the mirror and went to work. The sound of the scissor blades slicing through her hair took her back to that night and her back teemed with irritation. She clenched her jaw and ignored the flashes of memories that danced across her vision.

A knock on the door made her jump, and she cursed under her breath as she caught the top of her ear with the scissors.

"Riza."

She glared at the door, the doorknob wiggled, but she'd locked it.

"I'm fine, Father," she hissed.

"What are you doing? You've been in there for a while," he called.

"Fixing my hair," she growled.

"Let me help," he suggested.

"No, I've got it."

The familiar sound of chalk dragging against wood met her ears and she stood waiting.

Blue light flashed under the door and a click sounded as the door unlocked.

She put the hand mirror down as the door opened.

"Let me help," he repeated as he joined her in the bathroom.

She stared at him for a moment and then walked over to the window.

"I'll go to the salon," she protested as she threw the scissors out of the window.

"Riza, you've got to understand I had to. He left with his stupid fantasy before it was finished and there was no other place for it. I can't trust anyone," he explained, grabbing her as she attempted to brush past him.

She turned her head away from him.

"Look at me," he pleaded, squeezing her shoulders.

"That hurts," she hissed as she turned her eyes on him.

He released her and stumbled back—he'd never wanted to hurt her—never.

"I'm going to the salon," she told him as she disappeared down the stairs.

He nodded, wondering how he could make her see that he hadn't done anything wrong, that one day she'd thank him for trusting her with the secrets of flame alchemy.

He winced as the front door slammed.

"Stupid, naïve boy," he grumbled, telling himself that if not for the boy's foolish idealism he wouldn't have had to stow the array anywhere but the boy's head.

-.-.-.-.-

"What have you done to your hair, dear?" the hairdresser gasped as she got a glimpse of Riza.

"It was hot and this is much more manageable," Riza lied, letting the woman lead her to a chair. "But I couldn't get it even."

"I can fix that, but it's a shame all that beautiful hair is gone."

Riza shrugged and forced a smile onto her face, preparing for another lie. "I like it."

"As long as you like it, honey, but next time let us cut it off for you. We'll buy it to make a wig."

Riza nodded as the woman picked up a pair of scissors and a comb.

"This'll only take a minute or two," the woman told her.

Riza nodded and closed her eyes as she relaxed in the chair.

-.-.-.-.-

A.N. - Lots of ideas floating around in my head atm, but hopefully I'll finish this arc up soon. Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing: Cristipotter, .Allure, Legendary Chimera, Adelaide MacGregor, winglessfairy25, Lin, MoonStarDutchess, Kistune Moonstar, JackSparrow589, Hand-Made-City, YourFavouitePlushie, Everystep, RRForever, OTP, Illuminating-Darkness, Alynawatlovers, WargishBoromirFan, RoyxRizaFan, Dailenna, Kannami, Craziestanimefan, Deniece, Gimpyslair, Silvery Mist, Sweetdeath04, Bizzy, Momiji-k, Fated Love, Blaze Alchemist, YourFavouitePlushie, Chou Aoi, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Ruingaraf, Mirage992, Chaoticlullaby, Syolen, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Ehxhfdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, Animluvr8, Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Jennlyn78, Kasumi_Ryumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	29. Dog

I don't own FMA.

Mentions of Hawkeye's ink, does that still count as a spoiler??

**Theme: Dog**

**-.-.-.-**

Rain slicked the streets, drops making ripple after ripple in the puddles gathered on the hard pavement.

A puppy whimpered as it scuttled under a newsstand.

Lightning lit the dark underbellies of clouds blanketing the sky.

The puppy whimpered again and pushed himself as far away from the invading wet as he could.

Thunder rattled the windows of an apartment complex.

A blonde sat up in bed, her heart racing, the afterimages of blood flowing down the forehead of a stunned, red-eyed man fading from her mind as wakefulness took over.

She sat there for a moment, a hand over her eyes as she calmed her heavy breathing.

Letting her hand slide down to her lap, she glanced at the window above her dresser. Dark curtains blocked her from seeing outside, but she didn't need her eyes to know the newspapers had been correct in their prediction of storms.

As she threw off her covers, thunder rumbled again, and she knew it was what had woken her minutes ago.

Her feet quickly found the slippers beside her bed, and she made her way room, glancing at the battery-operated clock as she did so.

O'three hundred and thirty four hours.

She shook her head and made her way across the hall to the bathroom.

Her footsteps were soft, making less noise than the rain, not only because she was a sniper—trained in stealth—but out of respect for the elderly couple residing below.

Thunder rumbled as she turned on the faucet. She ignored the sound and splashed her face with cold water.

Not even o'four hundred hours, and she was already awake for the day.

Patting her face dry with the hand towel, she contemplated leaving for headquarters to get in some target practice, but decided against an early morning trek in the rain.

She sighed as she dug a small pot out of the kitchen cupboard.

Living in the dorms couldn't be nearly as bad as she'd heard. At least then she could go to the range and head back to bed if she tired without having to worry the walk home would clear away drowsiness.

It was nights like these that she cursed the ink on her back and the precautions she had to take because of it.

She filled the pot with water and set it to boil.

While she waited, she picked up one of the books Rebecca had recommended from atop her bookcase where it had been since she'd checked it out of the library three days ago.

She mulled over the summary on the back cover while trying not to think of how Scar had them running all in circles without leaving a single trace for them to go off aside from the scenes of carnage.

She wasn't sure if her temples were aching at the thought of him or from the thunder that growled outside her window reminding her of all those red eyes gone dull with the just the slightest pressure of her finger.

She refused to rub her temples, to soothe the pain. There was no remedy until the end, no matter which had caused it.

Instead, she put it out of her mind and turned the book over.

She rolled her eyes at the cover—a man of Major Amrstrong's build kissed the hand of a flustered woman in tattered clothes—but took the book with her to the kitchen where she removed a mug from one cupboard and teabag from another.

The aroma of oranges filled the air as she poured the heated water into the mug.

The apartment lit for a moment with the flash of lightning, leaving the light of the lamp she had on seeming dull in its wake.

She stared out the window above the sink, counting just as he father had taught her.

One Amestris...two Amestris...three Amestris...four Amestris ...five Amestris... six Amestris...seven Amestris...eight Amestris...nine Ames-thunder.

Nothing to worry about.

Nothing, unless she couldn't get her mind off of it.

She added the smallest of spoonfuls of sugar to her tea. With the book tucked under her arm, she stirred the tea as she walked couch.

Before she settled in, she turned on the radio. Its music came through fuzzy and a bit distorted, but was a distraction nonetheless. A symphony escorted her away to the years before Amestris was more than a meaningless word.

A woman gathered water from a pump, worried she'd get scolded for being late after being held up by the Prince and his escort.

**-.-.-.-**

Upon opening her eyes, it only took her a moment to remember why she was on the couch.

The book lay splayed on the floor, the blushing princess-in-hiding looking at Riza from the corner of her eyes as she picked the paperback up. Deciding against trying to find where she'd left off and mark it, she placed the book on the end table.

After depositing the still half-full cup in the sink, she watched the raindrops sliding down the kitchen window—their pitter-patter quieter than when she'd woken earlier. They sky had lightened, but the sun was nowhere to be seen.

She didn't need the radio announcement to know it was just past o'six hundred hours, her internal clock had never failed to wake her up in time before. She looked around the small living room area in an attempt to remember where she'd last left her umbrella.

**-.-.-.-**

The puppy lapped water from the puddle just outside his small bit of shelter.

He was so thirsty that the drizzle didn't have a chance to refill the little pothole before he finished.

Thirst quenched, he crawled out from under the newsstand and sniffed around.

Everything smelled so fresh.

People were coming out—strange patches hovering over their heads as they walked. He cocked his head to the side and watched for a moment, not quite sure what those patches were.

A familiar scent caught his nose, and he darted down an alley, the strange patches already out of his mind.

Beef and carrots dominated his senses, but he could pick out the kindness and joy of the man watching as he joined the group of dogs and devoured the remaining scraps the man had put out.

The food was gone, but his hunger was sated, and his tail wagged.

He ambled over the man, anxious for a pat.

The man laughed and gave him a quick scratch between the ears.

A door opened and someone called out to the man.

The man frowned and then hobbled back inside with a sad glance at the dogs who watched him so eagerly.

A lady appeared at the door with a broom in hand. As soon as the man disappeared inside, she started waving the broom around and barking in her strange language.

The puppy didn't leave because her efforts, but because her mean smell hurt his nose, it reminded him of those berries that looked juicy but gave him a stomach ache.

He wasn't even out of the alley when the drizzle started getting heavier.

He ran, he needed to find somewhere safe, somewhere dry.

Just in time to keep from getting drenched, he took cover under the same newsstand he'd used all night.

Hissing filled his ears, and a paw with sharp claws flew at him.

He backed out onto the sidewalk, whimpering, but his retreat was stopped short.

Hands wrapped around his middle, and he tried to run, but wound up pawing at the air as he was lifted from the ground.

The human cooed at him and held him close. He smelled of the same kindness as the man. The puppy stopped struggling when he recognized the scent.

Somehow, huddled in this man's arms, he wasn't getting wet. He licked the hand that held him.

The man beamed at him.

He wagged his tail.

**-.-.-.-**

Just like the rest of the officers arriving, Riza stopped as she made it under the awning and shook out her umbrella to keep it from dripping down the halls.

The office was empty when she entered, but the day's paper was on Falman's desk and the coat rack was nearly full.

If she had to guess, she'd say there were probably all in the mess hall, and a cup of coffee sounded rather appealing after her early morning.

**-.-.-.-**

The puppy sniffed at the air, eager to catch all the scents floating around.

Quite suddenly, he was lowered to the soft ground. He didn't hesitate a moment in starting his exploration, his nose flush against the strange floor.

The human was saying something, but there was so much to smell that he paid no heed.

A loud thud caught his attention, and he realized the man had left him alone. Alone, inside.

And he smelled food.

**-.-.-.-**

She'd gotten her coffee in time to exit the mess hall just as Havoc, Falman, and Breda did.

Havoc complained that the rain would ruin his date, while Breda joked that a rainy night was best spent inside, waggling his eyebrows at the Second Lieutenant.

Riza caught Falman's eyes as he shrugged his shoulders in apology. She rolled her eyes.

By the time they got to the office, she was leading the group.

Opening the doors, she stopped short of entering.

A small black and white pup sat at Breda's desk, whimpering.

It smelled like wet dog.

"What's this?" she demanded.

A thumping filled the office as the puppy's tail wagged at her voice.

"Dog. Member of the Genus Canis. Scientific name: Canis Familiaris. The species is thought to be descended from wolves. Has a tendency to hunt in packs," Falman stated matter-of-factly.

Riza gave him a blank stare. "That's not what I meant Warrant Officer Falman."

"I'm sorry, you guys," called Fuery as he jostled past them and kneeled by the dog. "It's a dog that I found this morning," he explained as he set down a bowl of water and bundled the pup in a small towel.

Havoc peered down at the animal in the young man's arms. "Are you going to keep this dog Master Sergeant Fuery?" he inquired.

"No…the dorm where I live doesn't allow dogs," he admitted, a bit down-trodden.

"If you can't take care of it, you shouldn't have brought it here," Riza chided.

"It looked so helpless sitting there in the rain. I just couldn't help myself," he defended.

"You'll have to find a home or take him back," she ordered.

Fuery looked down at the puppy with sad eyes, but nodded in agreement. He looked around the room as he got to his feet. "Do you know anyone who would take him?" he asked Falman.

The older man just shook his head. "I live in a dorm, too. So, I can't."

Fuery's shoulders slumped and he turned to Breda.

Breda shook his head before the Sergeant even asked. "I hate dogs…I really hate them," he bleated from behind the office doors he was using as a shield.

"Guess not," Fuery mumbled.

His eyes widened behind his glasses as the dog was plucked from his arms.

"Okay, I'll take him," Havoc piped up holding the puppy by the scruff of the neck. "I love dogs."

Fuery grinned. "Thank you, Lieutenant Havoc!"

Havoc brought the pup up to eye level for close inspection. "I hear they're supposed to be good stir-fried."

Fuery's face fell.

"There's a country in the far east that raises them for food. They say dogs with red coats taste the best," he elaborated, only to have the dog tugged out of his grip by Riza.

"You'd better look for a different owner," she suggested as he handed him back to Fuery.

"It was just a joke," Havoc cried.

Riza ignored him. "Find him an owner by the time I'm finished running drills at the range, or take him back to where you found him," she reminded Fuery.

Fuery nodded as she left the office.

She shook her head as he quietly asked the others if they thought she was mad.

"It's Wednesday," Falman explained as the doors closed. "She has to help with firearms training on Wednesday mornings. "

**-.-.-.-**

Roy's nose crinkled as he entered the office.

"Lieutenant Havoc, what have you been smoking?" he demanded.

"Wasn't me," Havoc said, an unlit cigarette hanging from his bottom lip.

Roy frowned and turned his attention to Breda. There had been more than one occasion where food had been left in his desk before. He was about to ask, but the man's face was pale as snow. "If the smell is too much for you, I suggest you help find a remedy," he ordered.

Breda lifted a shaky hand and pointed across the office.

Roy whirled around, and there was the culprit--a puppy strolling across the office and up to him.

"Sorry, Sir. I had to get him some food," Fuery apologized as he entered the office with a bowl in hand. "I found him out in the rain," he explained as he picked up the puppy.

"Hmm, a dog. I like dogs," Roy said as he scratched the puppy's head.

Fuery's excitement at Roy's disposition faded as the Colonel continued on the subject. While Roy's eyes sparkled with mirth, Fuery broke out in a sweat just listening to him talk of a dog's unwavering loyalty. He couldn't let a man who called a dog man's servant take the puppy home.

He was almost relieved when he found out the Colonel couldn't take the puppy in.

"Sir, do you know anyone who could take him in?" he pleaded.

Roy studied his youngest subordinate. The hint of desperation in the man's voice surprised him.

"Why the rush, Master Sergeant?"

"I can't keep him in the dorm, and Breda hates dogs, and Falman also lives in the dorms, and," he shot a glance over at Havoc and lowered his voice, "and Havoc wants to eat him."

It took all of the willpower he could muster not to laugh at the last bit and instead send a horrified glance over at the blond Second Lieutenant.

Havoc felt the eyes upon him and looked up from his work to find Fuery shooting him a disgusted glare.

"It was a joke! The puppy would be put to much better use attracting and wooing woman than as food," Havoc mumbled.

"He's just a puppy! Not food or bait to lure in your next girlfriend," Fuery snapped, holding the puppy closer to his chest.

"Hawkeye told him to find an owner by the time she returned, or take the dog back where he found him," Falman reported, cluing Roy in to Fuery's turmoil.

"I didn't know the Lieutenant could be so cold," Fuery murmured as he looked out the window to the wet streets of East City. "How can I put it back out into the rain…"

Roy grinned. The men didn't quite know Hawkeye yet.

"Don't worry. Lieutenant Hawkeye may seem tough, but underneath all that she's got a gentle heart," he reassured the young man, giving him a pat on the shoulder as he made his way to his desk. He didn't need the first example of Hawkeye's gentle heart to be her ordering him to get his work done, especially not after her rotation on firearms training—she usually needed a bit of unwinding after dealing with the rookies.

**-.-.-.-**

Riza sighed as she pulled her uniform jacket back on. She'd been lucky to get a capable bunch this time around. It was a bit amusing to see Rebecca frustrated with her group for once. Most of the time she was lucky if her recruits knew the barrel from the grip. Rebecca parted from her with a nearly inaudible grumble about having to return to give her group another training session.

Riza went in the opposite direction. It was nearly lunch time, but she wanted to make a dent in her paperwork before she took a break.

General Grumman stopped as she saluted him in the hall. "I hear there's a new addition to your office staff," he inquired.

"Yes, Sir. A puppy Master Sergeant Fuery didn't have the heart to leave in the rain," she informed him, quite sure it would have slipped her mind until she spotted it again if he hadn't brought it up.

"Quite admirable of him. I hope he finds someone to take the pup in. I'm hardly ever home, or else I would," he said, giving Riza a sharp look.

"I'm sure he will, Sir," she told him ignoring the look he gave her.

"Well then, you may return to your business, Lieutenant," Grumman dismissed her with a grin.

She shook her head as he walked away, surprised that Fuery had gone as far as asking Grumman to take in the dog.

**-.-.-.-**

The puppy yawned from its hiding place under the desk. It was quiet and dark there—he could finally get some sleep. The kind man had been dragging him about all morning, and he'd smelled and played with more people than he thought he'd ever meet.

He was nearly asleep when the door opened again. He poked his head out and sniffed the air.

It was the lady. He wagged his tail and ambled out from under the desk.

**-.-.-.-**

Fuery hurried over and picked the puppy up, trying to creep out of the office before Riza saw.

"Did you find an owner for it yet, Master Sergeant?" she asked as she walked up behind him.

He gulped. "Uh…uhm, well…that is," he stammered as he turned around to face her.

"You didn't find one, did you?"

He sighed and his shoulders slumped. "No, Sir. So, like I promised, I'll take him back to where I found him," he told her, unable to meet her eyes.

Riza took a step closer.

"Well," she began, snagging the puppy out of her subordinate's hands. "I guess if no one else wants to be the owner, then I have no choice. I'll take him, but I hope you know that I'm very strict," she told him as she held the puppy close, letting it sniff her.

"Lieutenant," Fuery whispered, too overjoyed to put his thanks into words.

Roy joined Fuery, chuckling at the man's tears of relief. "See, I told you she has a good heart."

"I'm glad you finally found an owner," Falman chimed in, watching as Riza began to teach the puppy how to shake hands.

Havoc pushed away from his desk, walked over, and clapped Fuery on the shoulder. "I'm sure the Lieutenant's going to discipline the dog well, and give it a lot of love, too."

"I'm so relieved," Fuery murmured, glad to have finally found a good home for the stray.

Everyone's attention turned to the dog when Roy gave a shout.

The puppy stood with a leg lifted, relieving itself on the office wall.

"Uh, I guess he's not house broken yet," Fuery remarked, rubbing the back of his head. In all the commotion he'd forgotten to take the poor guy out.

Roy looked from the puppy to his First Lieutenant as the familiar sound of the safety being clicked off reached his ears.

Everyone in the office stared in horror as she emptied a clip into the wall around the puppy.

The puppy cowered away from the sound, tail tucked between its legs.

Riza dug in the supply closet and found a discarded box lid and old newspapers. She lined the lid with the papers as she returned to the puppy.

"Bad dog," she chastised as she kneeled to get down to eye level with the puppy. "You're potty is here, got it?"

Satisfied that the dog understood she gave it a pat on the head. "Okay, good boy."

**-.-.-.-**

Riza hadn't expected bathing the dog to be so much trouble. She couldn't have him stinking up her apartment, but now she was drenched and he was running through the apartment shaking water everywhere and rolling around on her carpet. She was tempted to take out her gun, but she wanted him to listen to her, not the guns. The taste of soap still lingered in her mouth from the first time the puppy had shaken it off. She refrained from going for a glass of water and hunted for the puppy.

She tiptoed towards the couch. He was just on the other side, laying on his back and occasionally rolling around.

Sure to stay out of his sight, she rounded the couch.

"Got you, you bad puppy," she shouted in success as she wrapped him in a dry towel.

His tail wagged against her as she picked him up.

"You have to be a good boy," she told him.

He licked her face and shot her a look which must have been the exact definition of puppy-dog-eyes.

Sitting on the floor, she rubbed the puppy down with the towel.

A knock sounded on the door. She was about to set the puppy down, but decided against it.

When she opened the door, the man who'd fixed her toilet the week before stood there.

"Mr. and Mrs. Gleahdon called about the noise. They're afraid somethin' happened to you," he said as he looked her up and down.

Her cheeks didn't color, but she wondered how much of a wreck she looked like. "No, nothing at all. I just got a puppy and he didn't like the prospect of a bath," she explained.

"I'll let 'em know," he said as he made his way to the staircase.

"See, now I have to go apologize for worrying that nice couple," she told the puppy as she closed the door.

She was no more than a few steps away when a knock sounded on the door again.

She huffed, wondering what it could possibly be now.

The puppy wiggled.

"Hold still."

Roy grinned as she opened the door.

"Colonel?"

"I thought you might need a few things," he said, fighting the urge to laugh at her disheveled hair, wet clothes, and the stray dog hairs clinging to her. The white bundle in her arms wiggled and yipped.

"No, bad, Hayate," she told the puppy. She waited a few moments and, when he didn't bark again, dug a soggy treat out of her pocket which the puppy devoured.

"Hayate?"

"I named him Black Hayate."

Roy gave her a blank stare.

"Come in," she offered, stepping aside so Roy could get past her.

She wiped her slobber covered hand on the towel before she pulled the door closed.

"I was surprised you didn't offer to take the dog, you've never been one for living alone," she commented as Roy dug in his own pockets.

"No animals allowed in my apartments," he explained as he held out a blue leash and collar.

"Colonel, you really shouldn't have."

"Well, it wasn't just me. Havoc and Fuery even got Breda to chip in," Roy explained as he produced a small bag of dog treats from another coat pocket.

She set Hayate down. "Be a good boy," she told him as he found his way out of the towel.

Hayate circled around Roy, taking in the vaguely familiar smell of his shoes.

"Oh, and Fuery wanted me to give you this," he said setting the treats on the end table on top of the blushing princess in disguise. His eyebrow rose at the sight of the book cover, but he dismissed it and found the note in his pocket. "Some training tips if you need them," he informed her.

"Well, uh, I should probably get to cleaning up his mess," she said as she took the paper from him.

Roy nodded. "He seems to be quite the handful, need some help?"

She looked down to find the puppy curled up on the towel. "I'm pretty sure I can handle it. After all, I've got Fuery's expertise," she declined his offer.

He nodded and dug his hands into his pockets.

"Have a good day off, Lieutenant," Roy told her as he made his way to the door.

"You too, Colonel." She followed him, watching from just inside the door as he walked to the stairwell.

Just as he was about to disappear she called to him.

He stopped for a moment and half turned to look at her.

"Thanks," she called.

He waved and continued on his way.

A grin settled on her face as she closed the door.

**-.-.-.-**

Water plummeted to the ground.

Puddles gathered in potholes and uneven paving.

Lightning broke across the dark expanse of sky.

Thunder grumbled through East City.

A blonde comforted a trembling puppy.

"It's okay Hayate, it can't hurt you," she reassured him as she lifted him onto her bed. The puppy snuggled under the covers and curled up by his owner's stomach. As she drifted back to sleep, she decided living alone wasn't so bad, but then again, she wasn't living alone anymore.

**-.-.-.-**

A.N.: Originally written for the fmagiftexchange at livejournal. My prompt was living alone with the characters Riza, Hayate, and Roy. I forgot that I'd never posted this here, which is why it took a few months for me to bring it over from lj. Some dialogue taken from _Dog of the Military_ sidestory Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing:Rukia's Reflection, Alynawatlovers Cristipotter, .Allure, Legendary Chimera, Adelaide MacGregor, winglessfairy25, Lin, MoonStarDutchess, Kistune Moonstar, JackSparrow589, Hand-Made-City, YourFavouitePlushie, Everystep, RRForever, OTP, Illuminating-Darkness, WargishBoromirFan, RoyxRizaFan, Dailenna, Kannami, Craziestanimefan, Deniece, Gimpyslair, Silvery Mist, Sweetdeath04, Bizzy, Momiji-k, Fated Love, Blaze Alchemist, YourFavouitePlushie, Chou Aoi, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Ruingaraf, Mirage992, Chaoticlullaby, Syolen, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Ehxhfdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, Animluvr8, Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Jennlyn78, Kasumi_Ryumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	30. Dependency

I don't own FMA

Chapter 102 Spoilers, set post-promised day

**Theme: Dependency**

-.-.-.-

Roy looked around the empty office and closed his eyes. First, he squeezed them shut tight, eyebrows knitting together. Then, as the second hand ticked with movement he relaxed, wondering what it would have been like had the loss of his eyesight not been temporary.

The door creaked, footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor.

"Sir?"

Her voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?" she asked, and he could hear her walking closer.

"Just thinking," he reassured her, but didn't open his eyes.

"Thinking?" she echoed, her voice lilting in question.

He nodded.

"About?" she ventured.

"Things." He moved his hand across the desk, taking in the grain of the stained and polished wood.

Silence, except for their breathing…and he's tempted to open his eyes to see the expression on her face—was she puzzled, frustrated, indifferent, concerned, or something else entirely—all he knew was that she was definitely staring. Her gaze made the hair on the back of his neck prickle—a sense he'd probably developed when trying to shirk off paperwork.

"Things you always say are better not to think about?" she guessed.

"I suppose you're going to tell me to take my own advice?" he murmured.

She nodded—he didn't need to see her to know—she was always reminding him to follow his own advice.

Silence flowed between them and he listened to her footsteps as she made her way to her desk. The chair creaked as she pulled it out and sat down. He wondered how much harder he would have had to concentrate to follow her movements through the office had it been full.

"To say it was frightening would be an understatement," he said, breaking the strange silence.

"Sir?" Her voice was worried.

"Thinking that for the rest of my life I'd be in the dark—I'd have to depend on someone to tell me if my socks matched or if I had a hole in my clothes." He paused and sucked in a breath, recalling the moment when he'd finally realized he hadn't been transported to some strange world of darkness. "And those were only the small things…" he trailed off, the stream of thoughts he'd had at hearing the homunclus voice the word blind flooding his brain.

"I think, Sir, that you would have adapted," she reassured him.

"Adapted," he echoed, turning the word over in his mind. "I wouldn't have settled for just adapting."

"No, Sir, I don't think you would have," she agreed.

He sighed as he thought about the possibilities—there was a very good chance he might have turned out to be quite the ass in not wanting to just adapt. He opened his eyes and looked at her. "I would have been such a burden," he thought aloud.

"One I wouldn't have minded shouldering," she said, her gaze steady and sure as her eyes latched onto his.

He stared back at her, a sad smile on his face. "Those shoulders don't need anymore burdens," he observed.

"Well, then maybe you should get back to your work, so I won't have to be burdened with finding something to occupy myself with while waiting for you to finish," she quipped, the corner of her mouth tugging her lips into a smirk.

"Touché," he said through a chuckle as picked up his pen.

-.-.-.-

A.N. - Roy was feeling like playing in the land of what if's today. Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing: Cristipotter, Rukia's Reflection, JackSparrow589, Sarcasm Angel, Alynawatlovers, Kari Nago, Angel. Of. Allure, Legendary Chimera, Adelaide MacGregor, winglessfairy25, Lin, MoonStarDutchess, Kistune Moonstar, Hand-Made-City, YourFavouitePlushie, Everystep, RRForever, OTP, Illuminating-Darkness, WargishBoromirFan, RoyxRizaFan, Dailenna, Kannami, Craziestanimefan, Deniece, Gimpyslair, Silvery Mist, Sweetdeath04, Bizzy, Momiji-k, Fated Love, Blaze Alchemist, YourFavouitePlushie, Chou Aoi, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Ruingaraf, Mirage992, Chaoticlullaby, Syolen, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Ehxhfdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, Animluvr8, Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Jennlyn78, Kasumi_Ryumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	31. Crime & Punishment

I don't own FMA (set post-promised day, no spoilers aside from mention of scars)

**Theme: Crime & Punishment**

**-x-x-x-x-**

A cool breeze fluttered through the window and kissed her awake. The smell of pancakes greeted her as she blinked her eyes open.

With the stealth hammered into her everyday life through training, she padded down the hall and stood at the edge of the kitchen unnoticed.

She grinned as she watched him pour batter onto the skillet. "Sir?"

"Defying orders again, Lieutenant?"

"Mhm."

He turned to her and shook his head. "You're still quite the handful, even on vacation," he chided.

She rolled her eyes.

"This calls for punishment," he mused, a wicked gleam filling his dark eyes as he approached her.

"That hardly counts as rest, Sir," she mumbled into his lips as he pressed them against hers.

"You're the one that decided not to rest," he reminded her.

"The pancakes will burn," she protested.

"Already turned off the fire," he reassured her, fingers caressing the scar at the base of her neck as he guided her back to the bedroom.

**-x-x-x-x-**

A.N. - Short, but fluffy. This is the extended version of a drabble written for the 100 drabbles of summer prompt vacation. I have no idea what rank they'll have after the promised day(if they still in the military, that is, so I stuck with their current ones. Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing: Silvery Mist, Rukia's Reflection Cristipotter, JackSparrow589, Sarcasm Angel, Alynawatlovers, Kari Nago, Angel. Of. Allure, Legendary Chimera, Adelaide MacGregor, winglessfairy25, Lin, MoonStarDutchess, Kistune Moonstar, Hand-Made-City, YourFavouitePlushie, Everystep, RRForever, OTP, Illuminating-Darkness, WargishBoromirFan, RoyxRizaFan, Dailenna, Kannami, Craziestanimefan, Deniece, Gimpyslair, Silvery Mist, Sweetdeath04, Bizzy, Momiji-k, Fated Love, Blaze Alchemist, YourFavouitePlushie, Chou Aoi, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Ruingaraf, Mirage992, Chaoticlullaby, Syolen, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Ehxhfdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, Animluvr8, Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Jennlyn78, Kasumi_Ryumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	32. Wind

I don't own FMA. Set during the Ishval War.

**Theme: Wind**

**-.-.-.-.-  
**

Riza grimaced as she scraped out the sand that had collected under her fingernails.

The worst part of the day was always returning to camp—hearing the other soldiers brag about their kills, or worse, having them recite her "heroic" accomplishments. In an attempt to avoid soldiers like Crimson, she usually went straight to her tent. Most of her unit considered her a recluse already, but she didn't mind.

Even from inside the canvas wall she could still hear the men swapping tales. She much preferred the solitary silence of the abandoned Ishvalan buildings that kept her hidden from others until a replacement picked their way through the battlefield to her.

The tent flap moved aside and Cadet Jamison ducked in, a damp towel slung around her shoulders. "Your turn."

Riza nodded. Being one of a handful of females on the war zone had its perks—separate bathing quarters.

She didn't make eye-contact with those gathered around the fire pits, but kept her gaze on the big tent at the other end of the camp.

"The Hawk's Eye, that's her," she heard someone murmur and picked up her pace. She didn't want to hear what they were saying about her.

The soldier outside of the tent saluted her. "The water should still be warm."

She saluted back and nodded her head in thanks.

**-.-.-.-.-**

She gingerly sponged the off the dirt that had annoyed her all day long, thankful that she'd been fortunate enough to be at the camp when the day's water had been delivered.

The cold wind of the Ishvalan night whipped through the tent and sent shivers down her spine.

Alone in the tent, she let her mind wander, asked herself what her father would think if he knew his precious research was surrounded BY thousands of soldiers, was just a gunshot from being exposed to all.

She shivered again.

No wind this time, but the thought a thousand Flame Alchemists at the disposal of the military. For as long as she could remember, Amestris had been expanding, and it would be all that much easier if the military had her father's research.

It had to be destroyed. The look she'd seen in her eyes when they'd met told her he would understand, he would help.

**-.-.-.-.-**

**A.N. -** This is the extended result of two drabbles written for a summer drabble challenge. The next chapter is a companion piece. Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing: Cristipotter, Starry Pink, Rukia's Reflection, Mirage992, Silvery Mist, JackSparrow589, Sarcasm Angel, Alynawatlovers, Kari Nago, Angel. Of. Allure, Legendary Chimera, Adelaide MacGregor, winglessfairy25, Lin, MoonStarDutchess, Kistune Moonstar, Hand-Made-City, YourFavouitePlushie, Everystep, RRForever, OTP, Illuminating-Darkness, WargishBoromirFan, RoyxRizaFan, Dailenna, Kannami, Craziestanimefan, Deniece, Gimpyslair, Sweetdeath04, Bizzy, Momiji-k, Fated Love, Blaze Alchemist, YourFavouitePlushie, Chou Aoi, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Ruingaraf, Mirage992, Chaoticlullaby, Syolen, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Ehxhfdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, Animluvr8, Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Jennlyn78, Kasumi_Ryumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	33. Until That Day

I don't own FMA. Continuation of the previous chapter.

**Theme: Until That Day**

**-.-.-.-.-.-  
**

Riza looked over her shoulder into the old mirror, staring at the red lines that decorated her back.

A knock sounded on the door, making her jump.

"Come in," she called as she wrapped the flowered sheet around herself.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, his eyes dark with concern as they met hers.

Her eyes narrowed, and he thought for a moment that she was going to snap at him for asking again, but they softened and she nodded. "I have to."

"Everything is ready," he told her as he turned away from her.

"Sir," she said, her voice so near a plead that he had no choice but to turn around and look at her again. Her fists held the sheet around her in a white-knuckled grip and her eyes were on the floorboards that had been full of dust just days ago.

"No matter what I say or what happens, don't stop until it's done," she demanded.

It was his turn to clench his fists at his sides. "I won't," he promised.

She walked past him, and he stared after her, trying to imagine what life would be like had he not seen the array.

"Why is he here?" Riza called.

Roy took a deep breath and joined her in what had been the living room. "I can't just burn your back and not have someone here who knows what he's doing when it comes to first aid," he explained.

"You know plenty about first aid, they taught us all," she hissed, pulling the sheets tighter around her, not turning around to face him because it would expose the top of the tattoo to the doctor.

"Not enough for this."

She glared at him over her shoulder.

"I already told him everything."

"It wasn't yours to tell."

"Hey, I'll leave if you don't want me here," Knox threatened.

Riza turned her attention back to the doctor, ready to tell him he could leave if he wanted, but Roy put a hand on her shoulder.

"If I'm going to do this, we'll do it my way," he affirmed.

Her shoulders sagged in defeat.

The doctor held out a bottle of drown liquor to her. "I'd start drinking, if I were you."

**-.-.-.-.-**

"The Hero of Ishval, huh?" Knox murmured as he surveyed the damage to Riza's back.

Roy glared at him. "I owed it to her," he said through clenched teeth.

"Owed her a burned and bloody back?" he scoffed, dropping a cloth into a bowl of disinfectant.

"Who're you to talk?" he snapped, forcing himself to look at the damage her father's alchemy, his alchemy, had inflicted upon her.

Knox sighed. "You're right, I've done worse to 'patients'," he admitted, trying not to recall the orders he'd followed. Her silence during the alchemist's torture had reminded him of his patients, but they'd all been out cold for their procedures while she'd endured in silence until the pain had made her black out.

"I'm going to atone for this, for everything," Roy confided.

Knox laughed. "That's going to take an awful long time."

"Until then, I won't use it unless I have to," he vowed.

"That's good to hear," Riza croaked.

Roy jumped, wondering how long she'd been awake.

"Don't make any unnecessary movements," Knox ordered.

"Yeah, I got that," she mumbled under her breath.

Knox frowned, but refrained from commenting on her attitude.

"Do you need some water or something?" Roy asked.

"Only if you've got a straw," she answered.

Roy nodded and left the room.

"So, what made you trust him with that array?" Knox inquired.

She was silent for a moment, and he thought she wasn't going to answer, but then she said softly, "His goals."

"His goals? They're pretty idealistic," Knox informed her.

"He still believes in those goals, so I'll keep going with them in mind," she shared, the alcohol and his cynicism loosening her tongue.

"You're staying on with the military?"

"Until his goals are achieved…maybe even after," she confirmed.

"You're both crazy," Knox grumbled to himself. "This is going to sting, but hold still," he told her.

When Roy returned to the room, Knox studied him with calculating eyes, wondering how many people the alchemist had roped into believing in his dreams—hoped he'd be able to see them realized.

**-.-.-.-.-.-**

**A.N. **- Hmm, there may be more to this, but not right away. Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing: Deniece, Mirage992, Cristipotter, Starry Pink, Rukia's Reflection, Silvery Mist, JackSparrow589, Sarcasm Angel, Alynawatlovers, Kari Nago, Angel. Of. Allure, Legendary Chimera, Adelaide MacGregor, winglessfairy25, Lin, MoonStarDutchess, Kistune Moonstar, Hand-Made-City, YourFavouitePlushie, Everystep, RRForever, OTP, Illuminating-Darkness, WargishBoromirFan, RoyxRizaFan, Dailenna, Kannami, Craziestanimefan, Deniece, Gimpyslair, Sweetdeath04, Bizzy, Momiji-k, Fated Love, Blaze Alchemist, YourFavouitePlushie, Chou Aoi, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Ruingaraf, Mirage992, Chaoticlullaby, Syolen, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Ehxhfdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, Animluvr8, Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Jennlyn78, Kasumi_Ryumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	34. God

I don't own FMA**  
**

**Theme: God**

**Set Post Manga  
**

**-x-x-x-x-x-**

"Sir, you have a meeting with the Ishvalan Supreme Cleric today," she reminded him.

"You mean we," he corrected her. "She specifically requested for both of us to be present."

"The Supreme Cleric requesting a meeting, that's a rare honor," Scar commented as he joined them in the office.

Hawkeye swallowed a sigh and nodded. Not once since they're initial meeting had she seen them in more than passing. Most of their dealings had been with other community leaders, and they usually preferred to speak with Miles or Scar. Ever since she'd spoken with her over the phone, she'd been expecting to catch news of a dispute or mistake in the restoration plans.

Mustang frowned down at the expenditure reports, Scar's words reminding him of Hughes' telling him in hushed whispers about the meeting between Bradley and Supreme Cleric Lowe. This meeting would change things.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Despite the fact that they'd met before, Hawkeye was still amazed that the woman hobbling into the room with the help of a cane had been chosen as the Supreme Cleric, but the calm air she gave off reminded Hawkeye of the wisdom that shone in the woman's eye, the way her words captivated people, and it made sense.

"Supreme Cleric Shan, it's a pleasure to meet you again," Mustang greeted, as he crossed the room to shake hands with her. A young man who looked to be Edwards age walked a step behind Shan, his hand hovering just behind her back.

"The pleasure is all mine, General," she insisted as she shook his glove-free hand.

"Colonel, thank you for making time for this meeting on such short notice."

The boy glowered as Shan gave Hawkeye a slight bow of her head. Hawkeye took note of the deep red stripe that ran around the border of his tunic which Scar had pointed out to her as the sign of a Warrior Priest in training. She ignored the heat in his eyes and returned the bow.

"Would you like any tea, coffee, or water before we start?" Mustang asked.

"Tea would be fine, General."

Hawkeye gave Mustang a nod of understanding as he looked in her direction, and she stepped out of the room for a moment. When she returned, the boy was pulling out a chair for Shan.

"The tea will be here in a few moments," she said, explaining her brief absence.

"Shall we start, then?" Shan asked as Hawkeye took a seat to the right of Mustang, across from the boy accompanying the Supreme Cleric.

Mustang nodded.

"I'm sure you're already aware, but our temple is scheduled to be completed at the end of the week," she began. "Everyday, more Ishvalans return and offer their services. They would like to see it re-opened for Sunday, our sacred day of prayer."

Mustang nodded. "Do you need a few more hands?"

Shan shook her head. "No, but we'll need the building inspectors sent out early. On Thursday if it's possible."

"We could get an inspector out there," he paused and looked over to Hawkeye. She opened the folder she'd prepared and flipped through a series of notes. Once she found what she was looking for, she slid it closer to Mustang, her finger pointing to an empty spot in a chart. "About fifteen hundred hours," he finished.

Shan looked over at the boy. "That should work."

A knock sounded on the door, and after a moment, Havoc walked in with a tray in his hands. "Tea's ready, Boss."

Hawkeye narrowed her eyes at him for his informality, and he smiled sheepishly. "Supreme Cleric Shan," he acknowledged as he set the tray in the middle of the table.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel. It's good to see that you've become steady on your legs," Shan commented. "Perhaps, being in Ishvala's land has helped."

Havoc's grin faltered for a moment. 'If only she knew,' he thought to himself, all the while another thought nagged at him, saying she already knew.

"Havoc, could you call the inspector and leave a message for him to head over to the temple at fifteen hundred hours on Thursday?" Mustang ordered, pulling Havoc from his thoughts.

"Fuery should have the numbers," Hawkeye informed him.

Havoc saluted. "Will do, Sirs."

Shan poured the tea as Havoc left the room. She closed her eye for a moment, as did the boy, and then they drank.

Hawkeye waited for the meeting to continue. Surely, they hadn't come to headquarters just to ask for the inspection to be pushed up. Mustang took a sip of his tea and she followed suit.

Once they'd all set their cups down, Shan closed her eye again. "I would like to make another request of you, both of you," she declared as she opened her eye and looked between the pair.

They boy frowned.

"Mhm," Mustang murmured.

"Our opening service should be special, something that will be remembered for generations," she told them.

Mustang sat up straighter in his chair, his interest peaked.

"Don't get me wrong. I don't want any flash and bang, nothing fancy," she clarified.

Hawkeye kept her eyebrows firmly in place, she was sure Mustang had one raised in question, making himself look ridiculous.

"Traditionally, the bells are rung by a Warrior Priest and a Warrior Priest in Training, such as Rilen here, but I would like the pair of you to take the post for our first gathering," she explained.

Rilen scowled, Hawkeye frowned, and Mustang's face went blank.

"I won't ask for a response just yet," Shan said through a chuckle. "Just think about it, and consider what you would advise your Fuhrer to do had I asked this of him, or what he would advise of you to do were he here," she told them.

She stood, and the other three in the room practically jumped to their feet.

"Come, Rilen. We have much to do in the next five days," she said as she beckoned him to follow her.  
Rilen gave them both a hard look and followed Shan out of the room.

"Why would she want us?" Hawkeye thought out loud.

"Something that will be remembered for generations," Mustang replied, in awe of the woman's tactics. This was as political as it was personal. "What do you think, Hawkeye?"

She straightened out her frown. "From a professional perspective, anyone in that bell tower would be an easy target, Sir," she answered, not sure what else her muddled brain was thinking.

"True enough, she would have to agree to letting us check the buildings in the vicinity, covertly that is," he agreed.

"Maybe you and Scar...or Miles, should be the ones to ring the bells. I can lead a team to watch the surroundings," she suggested.

Mustang shook his head. "That won't do, Colonel. She would like the two of us, you and me, to do this. Not me and some subordinate of my choosing," he disagreed. "Scar and Miles will probably want to attend this service, but Havoc can assemble a team to check the surrounding buildings."

"But, Sir, what if...if..." she hesitated, unwilling to state her irrational fear that the Ishvalan's God would smite them for even thinking to walk into his temple. If Ishvala had wanted them dead, he would have settled the matter years ago and none of this would be happening. She suppressed a shiver as her rational side took over. No God would let their children be punished the way the Ishvalans had. She sighed and repressed the urge to massage her temples.

"What? Have you lost your confidence in Havoc?" Mustang asked, his head tilted slightly to the left with confusion.

"No, not at all, General. The Liuetenant Colonel is a capable sniper and leader."

"Good. Our first matter of business will be clearing Sunay's schedule," he declared as he flipped through the folder Hawkeye had prepared.

"You'll have to come in on Saturday to write out the weekly report for the Fuhrer," she stated.  
His shoulders slumped, and for a moment, he seemed to be re-considering the idea, but then his face brightened.

"I can write it at my apartment and then drop it at the office in the morning," he said as he crossed it off of Sunday's schedule.

She crossed her arms in disbelief. "Are you sure you'll finish it, Sir?"

"I guess you'll just have to stop by and make sure," he quipped.

Hawkeye rolled her eyes, surprised he hadn't thrown in a mischievous wink. "Or I could call."

"I might lie," he warned her, a smirk pulling at his lips.

She narrowed her eyes in distaste. "I might send Scar over."

His smirk faded.

She grabbed the folder and started for the door. "We've got work to do, General," she called as she opened the door.

He sighed and followed her into the hall.

-x-x-x-x-x-

He smirked as he opened the door. "I knew you wouldn't send Scar."

"It was tempting." She looked past him and into the apartment. "But I knew you would do something like that," she explained.

"The flowers and wine?" he asked as he closed the door behind her. "The flowers liven the place up a bit and the wine's a nightly routine," he argued.

She laughed. "You're turning out to be quite similar to a certain bar owner then?"

He shrugged. "Maybe It'll be mine once I retire."

She shook her head in disbelief. "You're too much of a workaholic to retire before you go senile."

"So, you admit I do get my work done," he crowed triumphantly.

"Most of the time," she conceded.

"Then you'll trust me when I say I've finished the report?"

"Not until I've seen it," she said, her voice firm.

"You hurt me, Colonel. First, you don't even bother to ask how I am, and then, you doubt my work ethics?" he asked, pouting.

"It's not your work ethics I doubt, but your motivation."

"My motivation?" he echoed through a chuckle. "I had quite the motivation today," he told her as he opened the wine bottle.

"Where's the report?" she asked, no letting herself get distracted as he poured two glasses of the dark wine.

"Are you going to make me drink both of these?"

"Let me see the report, and then I'll consider having a glass," she proposed.

He gave a dry laugh. "It's in that folder," he told her, pointing at the end table next to the couch.

She sat down while she looked over the report. He stood behind her, his hand lightly brushing the side of her neck as he reached over her shoulder to give her a glass of wine.

"Just one," she vowed as she put the folder back in place and took the glass from him.

He grinned triumphantly as he rounded the couch and sat next to her.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

As they walked past the young men with tunics bordered in the same deep red as Rilen's, she could feel their stares on her back. Despite Shan's strong presence ahead of them, whispers of outrage still followed them through the shadowed hall.

"Rilen will take you the rest of the way," Shan directed them.

"Thank you for this honor, Supreme Cleric."

"Thank you, for helping make this possible," she returned the gratitude, her arms opening wide to indicate the temple walls.

"It was the least I could do, we could do" Mustang admitted, his eyes going dull for a moment.

"Supreme Cleric Shan, it's nearly time," Rilen reminded her as he came into view on the stair case.

"Yes, let us all take our places," she said, leaving Mustang and Hawkeye to follow Rilen.

"We ring the bell before our opening and ending temple prayers," Rilen explained as they climbed the stairs.

"Stay to the sides and watch below for the signal." He pointed down the middle of the tower they climbed. "A warrior priest will raise his arms when it is time for the bells." Rilen lifted his face skyward and raised his arms in the air. "Just like this," he told them as they made it to the final clearing. He indicated two ropes looped around the balustrade with plenty of slack. "This first one is the main bell," he explained, slowly unlooping it and motioning for Mustang to take it. "And this is the secondary bell." He freed the second rope and handed it to Hawkeye. "Now, it's important you don't forget that the main bell is rung two times, then the secondary bell twice, and the main bell one last time."

Hawkeye nodded.

"Don't get too loud up here, the tower is made to carry sound," Rilen warned.

Hawkeye nodded in understanding and the boy descended the stairs, his steps echoing softly, as if to emphasize his warning.

Hawkeye sighed and looked up at the underside of the bell, it's dark belly reminding her of the ample time she'd spent in towers during the war.

"You're supposed to be looking down," Mustang whispered.

She looked over at him, her thoughts flying back to the present, only to find his haunted eyes trained on her.

"We're doing some good here," he reminded her.

"Not if we miss the signal," she pointed out, moving her eyes downward.

Mustang bit back a laugh, like she'd ever let him screw up something like this. He watched her a moment longer, and then turned his gaze in the same direction as hers just in time to see the signal. Without the slightest hint of hesitation, he tugged on the thick rope, Hawkeye following suit after his second tug.

The sound of copper hitting copper reverberated through the tower, making any form of verbal communication nearly impossible. When the ringing finally ceased, a soft, clear chanting of prayer floated up the tower. Hawkeye closed her eyes, she may not believe in it, but it was beautiful.

She opened her eyes as the chanting stopped and two flashes of light caught her attention from a nearby rooftop. The all-clear signal. Shan's voice was nothing more than a quiet murmur to her sharp ears, but she could see the woman's hands moving as she talked, and could feel the attention of the crowd gathered to the stage.

She could feel Mustang's gaze on her, and repressed a shiver. "Sir?" she asked in a whisper, worried that anything louder would join Shan's words.

"I was just thinking," he trailed off, wondering how she would react if he'd told her that her eyes looked nothing like they had last time they'd been in this land. Instead, he looked down the bell tower to the Ishvalans.

Minutes later, they received the signal again. When the bells were rung, his shoulders relaxed, releasing the tension he hadn't realized had been there.

Hawkeye noted another double flash for the all clear, and nodded to herself as she re-tied the rope loosely around the balustrade.

When she straightened, Mustang was staring at her, again, the rope still in his hands. "Did you need help with that, Sir?" she asked, her voice barely loud enough to be heard over the prayers.

He blinked. "Huh? Oh, no, I've got it," he said, silence enveloping them as the prayers got louder. He looked down the tower and saw Shan looking out at what must have the crowd. She turned her head upward a moment, and Mustang was sure their gazes must have met.

He straightened and turned away from the middle of the tower, his feet taking him to the opposite end of the platform where Hawkeye stood, her hands on the guardrail, looking out across the rebuilt town that was glowing with the light of the rising sun.

"You know, you should let your hair grow back out," he suggested, a brief glimpse of what it could have been like to have a normal life with her flashing across his thoughts as he leaned against the railing.

"It's not practical, Sir," she reasoned, releasing the railing to finger the hair at the nape of her neck. "Actually, I think it's time for a trim," she pointed out.

"But I like it," he pouted.

"Another reason why it's not practical, Sir," she reasoned, refusing to look in his direction as a ghost of a smile turned up the corners of her lips.

He looked up at the sun, forcing his smirk into a frown as he squinted against the bright rays of light.

"You're checking up on me doesn't help curb those impractical thoughts, Hawkeye," he murmured.

"That was business, Sir," she reminded him.

He sighed. Typical Hawkeye answer. "One day, it won't be so impractical," he whispered to himself just as footsteps began to echo in the stair way.

"I look forward to the day, Sir," she replied, catching him off guard. But, before he could react, she was half-way to the staircase. "Sir, the service is over, we've got work to do," she called over her shoulder as Rilen appeared at the top of the stair case.

He nodded and joined them, Hawkeye falling into place behind him as they started down the stairs. Every time he thought he had her figured out, she always did something to surprise him.

**-x-x-x-x-x-**

**A.N. - **This was written for livejournal's rubber_glue. The prompts given were RoyAi, post-manga, happy, but not overly fluffy. I hope you all enjoyed it. Many Thanks to Bizzy for her concrit and help! Also, if you want to read an entertaining tag team fic by Bizzy & I, head over the the profile for TheCrazyStaffers

Thanks for reviewing: Starry Pink, Cristipotter, Deniece, Mirage992, Rukia's Reflection, Silvery Mist, JackSparrow589, Sarcasm Angel, Alynawatlovers, Kari Nago, Angel. Of. Allure, Legendary Chimera, Adelaide MacGregor, winglessfairy25, Lin, MoonStarDutchess, Kistune Moonstar, Hand-Made-City, YourFavouitePlushie, Everystep, RRForever, OTP, Illuminating-Darkness, WargishBoromirFan, RoyxRizaFan, Dailenna, Kannami, Craziestanimefan, Deniece, Gimpyslair, Sweetdeath04, Bizzy, Momiji-k, Fated Love, Blaze Alchemist, YourFavouitePlushie, Chou Aoi, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Ruingaraf, Mirage992, Chaoticlullaby, Syolen, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Ehxhfdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, Animluvr8, Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Jennlyn78, Kasumi_Ryumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	35. Given Name

**I don't own FMA**

**Prompt: Given Name**

**Takes place sometime after the transfer to central, but before the Lust encounter.  
**

**-x-x-x-x-x-  
**

She wasn't sure if it was the thunder or her internal alarm clock that woke her, but she got up anyway.

Hayate curled into a tighter ball under her blankets as she moved her legs away from him. She smiled at the pitter-patter of the rain on her bedroom window. She never minded a little rain.

It wasn't until she picked up the bag of dog food and it ripped, spilling its contents all over the floor, that Hayate padded out of her room.

She sighed and rooted through her cupboards for the trash bags. Hayate was already cleaning up the mess, by the time she started scooping up handfuls into the garbage bag. She put the last bits of the food into his bowl and a smaller bag for Fuery to take when he came by to pick up Hayate.

She was nearly out the door when she remembered her umbrella was still packed away. She considered leaving without it, but the sound of the rain had reached a crescendo. She went through three boxes before finding it, surprised that she hadn't needed it since the run-in with Scar in Eastern. She supposed everyone in Central commenting on the strange absence of rain would be eating their words today.

The streets were still relatively empty, and she ducked under the building awnings to keep out of the rain until she reached the end of her block. "It isn't too bad yet," she commented as she opened the umbrella and stepped out into the street.

Water dripped on her nose, and she looked up to find her umbrella had been gnawed to death. She'd been in such a hurry that she hadn't even noticed. "Hayate," she grumbled as a crack of thunder filled the sky and rain started to fall in sheets. She ran the rest of the way across the street, holding onto the ragged umbrella in hopes that it would offer some form of protection.

She sighed as she ducked under the closest bit of awning. "It's only a mile," she reminded herself. "And you love the rain." She took a deep breath and set her shoulders. There was a trashcan on the street corner where the shops started. She could deposit her useless umbrella there and possibly find an open shop selling one. It would just be a short detour.

A little voice nagged at her that she wouldn't arrive at headquarters at her usual time, but she shook it off and derived from her usual path.

She frowned as she turned down the second street of shops. The only ones opened were little coffee shops and breakfast joints. No sign of an umbrella so far. She refused to let her shoulders drop when the second street of shops turned out the same results. She stood on the corner waiting to cross to the next line of shops, when a car squealed as it bolted past the corner. Her reflexes were just sharp enough for her to get her mouth and eyes closed before the wave of water from the gutter splashed her.

Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and she gave up the search for an umbrella, so far it had cost her the usual head start she had in the office and more than a bit of dryness.

She was halfway to headquarters when the downpour had soaked her hair through, so she pulled her coat up over her head and picked up her pace.

By the time she walked through the main gate of headquarters, her coat was dripping into her hair. She caught a glimpse of Havoc standing outside by the door, putting out his cigarette, Breda waiting patiently for him.

Havoc looked up just in time to see a soaked woman approaching, and out of reflex he opened the door. "I have an extra shirt in my locker," he offered, his voice a note deeper than usual.

She paused just inside the door to lower her coat, and he blanched. "No, thank you. A prepared sniper has their whole uniform, Second Lieutenant," she told him. She could hear Breda's snickering as she turned down the hallway to the women's lockers.

When she closed the door to the women's locker room, she caught a glimpse of the water trail she'd left in her wake and frowned. She grabbed a towel from the stack near the showers, and made her way to her locker and the back of the room.

She opened her locker and hung the coat on the corner of the door. Then, she peeled off her uniform jacket and put it on top of the coat. Once she was out of her boots, she carefully took removed her spare uniform from where it hung in her locker and found an empty toilet stall to change in.

Once she had on dry socks and pants, she unclipped her hair and wrapped it in the towel. Grinning, she unbuttoned her uniform coat, only to find that there was no shirt inside. She scowled and shook the jacket, only complicating matter further when her hair clip fell out of her jacket pocket and went careening across the locker room floor. Moments later she heard it crunch under a boot.

"Someone lose a clip?" a voice called. "Sorry, it's not going to be much use now."

"Just trash it," Riza called, trying not to let her voice break with frustration. She shoved her arms into the sleeves of the uniform jacket as she bit back curses.

She walked to her locker, uncomfortable with the feel of the leather holsters on her, nearly, bare shoulders.

She discarded the towel and combed her hair, hoping to appear somewhat presentable when she pulled Havoc from the office.

She stood just inside the locker room for a minute, collecting herself, only to nearly crash into Havoc as she walked out the door.

"Sorry, Hawkeye, I, uhh..." he trailed off, glad that he'd already discarded his coffee, because it would have wound up on both of them.

"I didn't mean for that to sound like a joke, earlier, or, uh, a pick-up line, honest," he rushed through his rehearsed apology. As he avoided making eye contact, he noticed her neck was bare of the usual black turtle-neck.

"Apparently, I'm not a prepared sniper either," she told him, glad he was avoiding eye contact.

"The offer is still good," he said, cheeks flushing as he realized that all she was wearing under her jacket was a bra and more than likely her guns.

"I would appreciate it, Havoc." The words were barely out of her mouth when he darted towards the men's locker room, glad that she hadn't noticed his blushing.

As she waited, she noticed someone had cleaned up her mess.

He avoided looking at her when he returned. "It's going to be a little big," he mumbled.

"Thank you. It's better than the alternative," she replied as she took the black t-shirt from his hands.

His cheeks flushed as their eyes met, and she ducked her head in a bow of gratitude to hide the fact that an involuntary blush had heated her cheeks, too.

He nodded. "I'm going back to the office, now," he said, not sure why he was explaining himself.

"Can you let the Colonel know that I'm running late?" she asked.

"He already knows," Havoc called over his shoulder as he walked towards the elevator.

She paled, her eyes going to the stairwell. She slid back into the locker room, glad to have a shirt. She shrugged off the loss of her hair clip, with a simple t-shirt, she would have to keep her hair down just in case, anyway.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye," a voice greeted her as she left the locker room, this time quite comfortable.

"Colonel Mustang." she saluted.

"I heard about your dilemma," he began.

"There is no dilemma," she cut him off. "Everything is all sorted. I'm sorry for my tardiness."

"I have an extra collared shirt, it would work much better for you than a t-shirt," he offered.

"No thank you, Sir. It's all sorted," she said as she made her way to the deserted stairwell.

He waited until they were alone. "What if something happens and you need to take the jacket off?"

"My hair is down for more than one reason. And, if something happened and I had to remove my jacket while wearing one of your shirts, don't you think that would get people talking?" she reasoned. "Not to mention if it happened in the rain, well, white doesn't hide things very well when it's wet."

He nodded. "What's the other reason your hair is down?" he asked through a smirk.

"Certainly not for your satisfaction, Sir. My hair clip broke."

"What a shame," he said in mock sympathy. By the time they parted ways, her to collect the day's files and him to go back the office, he'd weaseled her into recounting the mishaps of the morning, and she was feeling slightly better about the whole situation.

That was, until General Raven spotted her. She saluted as they were about to pass each other, but he stopped. "Good, you're already here."

"Sir?"

He looked at the stack of files in her hands, and blinked.

"I suppose you haven't seen Mustang yet," he ventured.

"No, Sir."

"One of our trainers for rifle certification couldn't make it in because of flooding, so you're filling in," he told her. "Go drop those off and head to the range. The techs will know where you're going," he ordered.

"Yes, Sir."

Havoc and Breda stared at her as delivered the sorted paperwork to the proper desks.

"I tried to pawn Havoc off on them instead," Roy said as she dumped his paperwork off on his desk in the inner office.

"It's fine, Sir," she assured him.

He gave her an agitated look, knowing that fine never meant fine.

"Really, Sir, it's fine," she all but huffed as she made her way out of the inner office.

"Don't kill any one," he called after her.

She rolled her eyes, repressing the urge to smile that tugged at her lips.

Just as Raven had told her, the technicians knew where to send her. "Group Foxtrot is all yours."

"Thank you, Sergeant." She passed the first five groups, quite aware that her being the last trainer to arrive meant she had the team of ne'er-do-wells.

Once she was at the two stalls that were for her group, she came to a halt, and her group of corporals saluted. "At ease soldiers," she ordered as she returned the salutes, surprised to find two females in her group. It wasn't common to find a female corporal trying to rise past the desk jobs, let alone two at once. "I'm First Lieutenant Hawkeye. I'll be evaluating your marksmanship for rifle certification."

They nodded, standing at ease.

"Names?" she asked.

"Adams."

"Morris."

"Jacobson."

"Guaftner."

"Porter."

"Fredericks."

"Adams, Fredericks, and Guaftner in the first stall," she split them up, grouping the girls together so that it wouldn't be as easy for the guys to poke fun at them.

"Jacobson, Morris, and Porter in the next one."

The teams lined up in the order she called, rifles slung over their shoulders. She walked up and down the lines eyeing the safeties, glad that she didn't have to fail any of them on the spot.

"Adams you're first. Go through the basic shots."

"Yes, Ma'am," Adams accepted her orders, and made her way into the stall.

"No chatting, just watch," Hawkeye told the others. "Jacobson, be ready to go next."

Jacobson nodded and put in one of his earplugs.

Adams had good form, and her aim seemed good. Hawkeye waved for the tech to bring the target forward. "Good job, Adams," she complimented. The woman smiled in relief. "Your shots are off a bit to the right, make sure to work on that in practice.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Jacobson, you're turn. Federicks, you're up next."

She noted that Jacobson didn't look quite at ease with the rifle. He jerked with the first kickback, but held his ground afterward. A single wave brought the target up for inspection. "A bit wide, but nothing practice and hard work can't fix."

Jacobson sighed in relief.

"You can start Fredericks, Morris get yourself ready."

"A little more tension, Fredericks," she ordered, but the woman had her earplugs in. She jerked back and her hands flew from the rifle to her face.

Riza had to swallow her exasperation and went to the corporal. "Let me see," she ordered, fearing the worst.

The woman shook her head and mumbled something unintelligible. Hawkeye frowned and gently peeled the woman's hand from her face. Blood went everywhere. "Guaftner, a towel," she called, but the only response was a loud thud.

"Man down, Ma'am," Adams called.

This time, Hawkeye couldn't hide her irritation. Carefully, very carefully, she took off her already blood stained jacket. "Use this for now," she ordered. "Porter, see if the tech has smelling salts."

"Adams, take Fredericks to the infirmary, and try not to get blood everywhere."

"Yes, Ma'am." The pair was gone by the time Porter got back with the salts. She made sure to move slowly, paranoid that her hair would reveal the red lines of tattoo that Jean's shirt didn't quite cover.

"Morris, carry on," she told the corporal staring at the scene from the last stall. "Go on Porter, you should have learned to use those in the academy. Jacobson, help him."

A chorus of "Yes, Ma'am," filled the room, and by then the other teams had quit watching the commotion.

She watched as Morris double checked his hold on the rifle and shot. She relaxed a bit when he didn't hurt himself.

Guaftner groaned as she waved for the target to be brought forward.

"Corporal Guaftner, if the sight of blood makes you pass out, you probably shouldn't be training with fire-arms," she suggested as she turned to face him.

Guaftner blanched. "It's not that, Ma'am...I just didn't eat yet, and I didn't get much sleep," he explained.

"Go to the infirmary and have a nurse check you out. Then, I recommend you think on your career goals and schedule another certification test if you really want to face the responsibility of pulling that trigger in defense of your country," she lectured.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said in a shaky voice.

She turned from the discouraged corporal and inspected Morris' marksmanship. "Best of the bunch so far, but when you're in the field you won't have as much time to position your weapons and take aim."

He nodded, and Porter took his place.

"Jacobson, turn the smelling salts back in and alert the techs that we'll need a clean-up crew in here, then you're dismissed."

"Yes, Ma'am."

She tucked her hair behind her ears, afraid that it would move out of place of it's own accord. Minutes later, Porter was finished, and she was inspecting his target. "Well done, Corporal, but if you tense up too much, the kick will get you worse then it did Corporal Fredericks."

Adams appeared at her side, as if the mere mention of the incident had summoned her. "Permission to speak, Ma'am."

"Go on, Corporal Adams."

"Your jacket is at the infirmary. They're soaking it in a solution so the blood doesn't set in," she relayed.

"Thank you, Adams. Let them know I'll pick it up tomorrow morning, then you can return to your regular duties," she dismissed her. "As are the pair of you," she said to Morris and Porter.

"Yes, Ma'am," they said in unison.

It wasn't until they left that she realized she was alone, except for the technician.

"Bad recoil?" the technician asked as she walked past.

"Bloody nose, maybe broken," she explained.

"Corporals," he muttered, shaking his head.

She sighed.

After what seemed like a longer walk than usual, with her paranoia that the tattoo would show, she finally made it back to the office.

Everyone looked up at her as she walked in, but no one said a word.

She'd barely sat down at her desk when Mustang called for her.

"The nurse called about your uniform jacket," he began, "and seeing as how it's drafty in here, I thought you might want another layer." He opened up a drawer and pulled out the spare shirt he'd mentioned earlier.

"It's not that cold, Sir," she disagreed.

"Stop being so stoic, and take the shirt," he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.

"Of course, Colonel," she said, accepting the proffered shirt.

She turned away from the door, not wanting anyone that could see in the window to catch a glimpse of the array as she removed her shoulder holsters.

The sleeves of his shirt trailed past her fingertips, and, from the corner of her eye, she could see him biting back laughter. "It's not funny, Sir," she huffed as she pushed up one sleeve, so that she could get to work rolling the other up.

"Not at all, First Lieutenant," he agreed, frowning as he spoke to keep the amusement out of his voice.

Shirt buttoned, tucked in, and sleeves rolled up, she pulled her holster back on. "Thank you, Sir," she murmured as she made for the door.

At her desk, she found the empty certification forms in a drawer and wrote them out. Four out of six wasn't bad. Just as she was about to finish the last form, the pen squirted out a puddle of ink. She grumbled to her self and took out another form, but the ink had gotten to her hands, and now there were fingerprints all over it.

"I'm taking my lunch," she announced, not sticking around long enough for anyone to reply. Her first stop was the bathroom, where she scrubbed at her hands until most of the ink had washed off.

She was halfway through the line at the mess hall when she remembered she'd transferred her money into her jacket pocket. She had barely enough cenz stashed in her pants pocket for a tea and apple. She shrugged, it was better than nothing, and she'd survived on less before.

She ate the apple slowly, nibbling down to the very core of the fruit. She stirred the tea one last time, and then sipped it, reveling in its warmth.

When she got back to the office, it was empty, and there was something on her desk. She approached it carefully, releasing a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding when she realized it was a sandwich. Breda's sandwhich from the looks of it.

She didn't know how they'd known, but she was grateful. She devoured the sub, not even caring when mustard dripped out the end onto her written up certifications.

Before everyone trickled back into the office, she made sure to leave a note of thanks on Breda's desk.

By the time was done re-writing the certifications and working on the stack of reports from the morning, the office was full again.

The familiar sound of pens scribbling on paper and restless sighs filled the room. She had almost forgotten about her bad luck, almost.

She looked up from her work as one of the infirmary nurses entered the office. "First Lieutenant Hawkeye?" she asked as she stopped in front of Riza's desk.

"Yes."

"Your uniform jacket is dry," she said, sheepishly producing it from behind her back.

Riza took the folded bundle, surprised that it was ready so soon. "Thank you for delivering it."

"Well, uh" she hesitated, "I did have to come to request a report of the incidents for our records," she explained.

"Of course. I'll have it to you before I go home."

The nurses nodded and left.

Riza unfolded the jacket to inspect it, and noticed that there was something a bit off about it, but couldn't quite place her finger on it. There weren't any stains, but something was different.

Once she put her arm into the sleeve, she knew what was wrong. It was too small. Her jacket had been shrunk. She tugged her arm out of the too small sleeve and hung the jacket over the back of her chair. She'd barely turned around when the office door slammed open.

"What is the meaning of this, First Lieutenant Hawkeye?" a voice shouted.

She was on her feet in an instant. Her fingers poised in a salute as she stood at attention along with the rest of the outer office.

"Lieutenant General Hilton?"

"My nephew, Corporal Guaftner, told me about his certification test," he hissed.

She had to keep from frowning.

Mustang was suddenly in the outer office. "What happened, if I may ask, Lieutenant General?

"Your subordinate, here, failed him before he even got a chance to fire the damn rifle," Hilton explained.

"And why was that?" Mustang prompted.

Hilton paled. "Because he passed out. He was too nervous to eat, hadn't had anything all morning."

"What did they say at the infirmary?"

"They had him rest for a while and gave him something to eat. Said his blood sugar was down."

Mustang nodded. "So, he couldn't take the certification?"

Hilton's mouth worked open and closed, until finally he said, "Well, he could have taken it if she hadn't sent him to the infirmary."

"She did it for his welfare. I won't let her be reprimanded for that, Lieutenant General."

"This isn't the last you'll hear of this, both you and her," Hilton threatened and left the office.

Once he was out of the office, she turned to Roy. "It was too coincidental that he fainted from 'low blood sugar' at the precise moment my uniform jacket was sprayed with blood, Sir," she explained.

He shook his head. "You don't have to explain."

She nodded, and he looked around the room. "You do know that you can all sit back down now, right?" he asked when he noticed everyone was still standing. He rolled his eyes as he went back to the inner office.

Riza was nearly done writing up the incident report for the infirmary when Roy joined them in the outer office again.

"Hawkeye," he called, motioning for her to join him.

She signed her name on the now finished report, and made her way to the inner office.

"Have a seat," he directed. "I just got off the phone with General Raven. It seems he likes the way you handled the situation during certification, and has placed you on certification duty twice a week."

"That isn't funny, Sir," she deadpanned, hoping that he was in fact joking.

"He found it quite amusing that you didn't pass Hilton's nephew," Roy clarified. "He said something along the lines of , 'We need someone sharp like that to keep the Corporals in line.'"

She shook her head in denial. "Twice a week?" she murmured.

He nodded. "Do me a favor, don't leave your desk anymore today, okay?"

She fixed him with an unamused glare.

"Hawkeye?"

She continued to stare at him, not quite an outright challenge, but it never was.

"Look. The events of your day seem to have gone from bad to worse. I'm starting to develop an irrational fear you'd spontaneously combust if you leave the room again."

"You're being melodramatic, Sir, but if you insist," she acquiesced, and left the room.

Back at her desk, she continued on the remaining reports for the day. Annoyed that, for the first time in her career, she was actually behind on her paperwork, and all because a little rain.

Despite her doubt that she could finish the paperwork, she was nearly done when she dropped her pen and hour later.

She eased her chair back a bit, and ducked under her desk after the rouge pen. With the pen in hand, she backed out from under the desk, only to misjudge the distance and smack her head on the desktop in her attempt to straightened up.

Before she even managed to recover from the moment of shock, Mustang was in the outer office. "Why don't you finish up that piece of paperwork and head home, First Liuetenant."

She looked up at him, her brows furrowed despite the pain it caused. "Are you sending me home early, Colonel?"

"I'm sure everyone else here would agree that you deserve to leave early after the day you've had," he explained, getting nods from the other men.

"But, I still need to file the paperwork, Sir," she reminded him as she got to her feet.

"I can do that for you," Falman offered.

"See, everything is taken care of. Now, go on, finish that report while I grab my coat and umbrella."

"I can't take your coat and umbrella, Sir. Besides, my coat should be dry by now."

"Of course you're not taking my coat and umbrella. I can't trust you to get home safe unless you're escorted," he reasoned.

"If you're that worried, I could call the office when I get home, or even have Fuery call when he drops off Hayate," she argued.

"What?" she snapped when she realized everyone was staring at her. "You don't think I'd leave the dog home alone all day to piss all over the apartment, do you?"

"There is no arguing your case, Hawkeye. We're not waiting until Fuery happens to deliver Black Hayate to you to find out you tripped over your own feet and hit your head when you got home."

She looked around the room to find everyone nodding in agreement. They must have planned it while she was at lunch. Her shoulders fell, and she met his eyes. "Let me just sign this," she agreed.

By the time he was at the office door with his coat and umbrella, she had finished sorting her paperwork into neat piles for Falman.

She followed him along the corridors and down the stairs until he stopped outside the women's locker room.

It wasn't a complete surprise to her that her uniform and coat were still damp. Grateful that she always kept a small bag in her locker, she shoved the folded uniform and coat into it.

He raised a brow in question when she emerged sans coat.

"It's still wet," she explained, jiggling the small duffle in her hand.

Without a word, he shrugged out of his coat and handed it to her.

"I'll be fine, Sir."

"You don't even have a jacket. Don't make me order you to wear it," he threatened in a whisper, fairly certain that everyone passing up and down the hall was too busy trying to get out of work on time to pay any attention.

She accepted the coat, frowning when the sleeves were far too long. Minutes later, they were outside headquarters in the pouring rain, his umbrella making a quiet fwoomp as it opened above their heads.

"That's quite the umbrella, Sir," she commented when she noted it was big enough for the two of them to walk under comfortably.

"All the better to keep the rain away," he commented.

She was more than surprised when they made it to her apartment without incident, but so happy to be at home that she heaved a sigh of relief.

He chuckled and closed her door as she worked her feet out of her boots. "Tea?" she offered as she shed his coat and shirt along with her guns.

"Sure," he agreed, looking around the main room at the half-packed boxes shoved up against the walls.

She disappeared down the hall for a moment, only to return with her hair clipped up, the tops of the tattoo peaking out of the collar of Havoc's shirt.

The hair on the nape of her neck stood on end at his stare, but she shook off the shiver and filled the kettle with water.

Much to her dismay, the stove wouldn't light.

Mustang chuckled and walked up behind her. "Need some help?" he offered, not even bothering to wait for a reply before he pulled her back half a step and snapped. "Not quite useless, if I say so myself," he announced smugly, his breath warm on her neck.

Giving in the desire for closeness just this once couldn't hurt, or at least, that's what she told herself as she leaned back against him. "Not quite," she agreed.

He smiled into her hair, relishing in the bliss of catching Riza Hawkeye in a tender moment.

-x-x-x-

Fuery was always surprised by how quietly his superior's door unlocked, but even more surprised by light that trickled out of the apartment as he opened the door. She wasn't usually home at this hour, so he held Hayate's leash tight and slowly poked his head inside. The sight that greeted him had him pulling the door closed in a hurry and dragging a whining Hayate back down the stairs.

"Did you just see what I just saw?" he asked the dog.

Hayate barked.

"Hawkeye and Mustang asleep on the couch, cuddling," he mumbled to himself as she stood outside the building pacing back and forth.

"Think about it Kain, it makes sense. Who knows how long they've known each other, and everyone always jokes about the it. There's even a betting pool! Just go home and give her a call. That'll wake them up, huh, boy?" he asked the dog prancing around him. "Yeah, c'mon."

-x-x-x-

Riza's eyes snapped open at what she assumed was thunder. She smiled to herself as she gently nudged Roy awake.

"Hm?" he asked, cracking open his right eye just enough to see her.

"You should probably go back to your place."

He closed his eye and wrapped his arm tighter around her shoulders. "Out of the question."

"Fuery is going to be here anytime to drop off Black Hayate. Not to mention, it seems you spilled the last of your tea all over yourself," she pointed out.

"I finished mine," he argued.

She had to bit her lip keep from laughing, she couldn't remember finishing her tea, but the in her hand cup was empty.

"What?" he asked, feeling her quake against him.

"Well, then I suppose I didn't finish mine," she explained.

That got him to wake up.

He gave her an incredulous stare and then looked down to the stain on the bottom of his uniform jacket and waist of his pants.

"Sorry?" she offered, biting back another laugh. "Maybe if you weren't so comfortable. And you were the one to fall asleep first, Colonel."

"Maybe you should have put your cup on that end-table next to you."

A reply was on the tip of her tongue when the phone rang. She made to get up, but found herself stuck between the couch and the table. "Really, Sir?" she asked, eyeing his hand pulling on her uniform. When he didn't let go, but tugged on it, she rolled her eyes and unclasped the unnecessary piece of fabric, leaving it dangling in his hands as she answered the phone.

"Sorry, I'm running a little late bringing Black Hayate back," Fuery apologized nervously.

"Don't worry about it Fuery. I'll be here," she assured him.

She hung up after he mumbled another apology.

"He's on his way, you better go, Sir."

"I'm hurt, Lieutenant. After, everything I did for you today, you spill tea on me and then throw me out because the Master Sergeant is on his way."

She shook her head, reclaiming the piece of uniform he'd dropped and clipping it back into place around her waist. "The last thing we need is to encourage the office betting pool. We've done enough damage to that for the day."

"Hey, they all agreed that I should escort you home. Havoc was sure you wouldn't listen to anyone else-"

"Fuery really doesn't live very far," she interrupted.

"I'm going," he agreed as he stretched and got to his feet.

"Your coat and shirt," she reminded him, picking them up from off the table.

A hand at her waist stopped her from turning to face him. "You don't want Fuery seeing this, either," he commented as his thumb skimmed across the base of her neck.

She nodded and he took the clip out of her hair.

"I'll see you at the office tomorrow," he said, prompting her to turn around.

"Of course, Sir," she agreed as he traded her the hair clip for his coat and shirt.

He had his hand on the door knob when she cleared her throat. "Thank you, Roy."

He didn't turn around, couldn't, not with the idiotic smile that was plastered across his face.

"You're welcome, Riza," he managed to say before he pulled open the door and gave her a wave over his shoulder.

A light knocking on the door pulled her out of her thoughts a few minutes later. She ran her fingers through her hair, making sure it hid the tattoo. Just before she opened the door, she noticed Roy's umbrella was still propped up against the wall. Unless he'd caught a cab, he'd be rather soaked by the time he got home.

Hayate whined impatiently, and darted in as soon as she opened the door. The dog stopped and sniffed at the new umbrella while she thanked Fuery who uncharacteristically turned down her offer for tea.

**-x-x-x-x-x-**

**A.N. - **Zomg, this turned into a monster...poor Hawkeye. Thanks go to Bizzy for some inspirations! Anyway, this fic is for lj's arizoneicerose, who requested a fluffy Royai piece and gave the prompt rain. Well, I hope you enjoyed it , thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing:Bizzy, Cristipotter Starry Pink, Deniece, Mirage992, Rukia's Reflection, Silvery Mist, JackSparrow589, Sarcasm Angel, Alynawatlovers, Kari Nago, Angel. Of. Allure, Legendary Chimera, Adelaide MacGregor, winglessfairy25, Lin, MoonStarDutchess, Kistune Moonstar, Hand-Made-City, YourFavouitePlushie, Everystep, RRForever, OTP, Illuminating-Darkness, WargishBoromirFan, RoyxRizaFan, Dailenna, Kannami, Craziestanimefan, Deniece, Gimpyslair, Sweetdeath04, Momiji-k, Fated Love, Blaze Alchemist, YourFavouitePlushie, Chou Aoi, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Ruingaraf, Mirage992, Chaoticlullaby, Syolen, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Ehxhfdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, Animluvr8, Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Jennlyn78, Kasumi_Ryumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


	36. So, I'm Crying

I Don't Own FMA

**Prompt: So, I'm Crying**

**Set Post-Manga (no spoilers)**

-x-x-x-x-x-

"That isn't helping, Lieutenant General," Roy snapped.

Riza ceased her pacing. "I'm sorry, Sir. I just, I need to do something," she confessed, her hands busying themselves looking for invisible lint on her dress uniform. "I've already cleaned my guns...twice" she explained.

"I can think of something," he said through a smirk.

She glared at him. "I don't know what makes you think-"

"It was a joke," he said, quick to cut her off. "You're not the only one who is anxious," he reminded her.

She caught herself starting to pace again, and changed directions to the couch. Before she even had a chance to sit down, she heard Roy's chair roll backwards as he got to his feet.

"Sir?" she asked, watching as he pulled his coat on.

"Everyone else is out getting a drink, I think it might do me well to join them for one, or two," he explained. "It might do you well, too."

When she didn't make for her coat, he grabbed it for her. "C'mon, Hawkeye, there isn't anything we can do now, but wait," he coaxed, holding out her coat. "One glass of wine won't hurt."

She nodded and slipped her arms into the coat. "But just one," she agreed.

"Nice of you two to grace us with your presence," Havoc greeted, clapping Roy on the back.

Breda help up his glass of beer in acknowledgement at their arrival.

Fuery smile and scooted over in the booth, making room for Hawkeye while Roy slid in next to Havoc across the table.

Woken by the nudges of Fuery and Breda on either side of him, Falman raised his head from the table and blinked away his fatigue. "Ah, you made it."

The waitress made a beeline for their table, recognizing Mustang from the papers. "Can I get anything for you?" she asked, winking at him.

He gave her his trademark grin and ordered their finest red wine.

Havoc rolled his eyes. "She's was hitting on me until she noticed this," he bragged, waving his hand left hand around.

Falman groaned. "It's common knowledge that one becomes more attractive to the opposite sex when one is taken. It's something to do with pheromones," he pointed out.

"Don't burst his bubble," Breda said through a laugh.

Havoc took a swig of his beer. "Wanna bet on that?" he asked as he removed his ring.

Falman sighed and rubbed his temples. "No, the pheromones will still be present even if your ring isn't," he explained.

"Sure," Havoc grunted.

The waitress arrived as the table grew silent. "I forgot to ask how many glasses you wanted," she said, explaining quantity of glasses circling the bottle of wine.

"Just two," Mustang said as the others at the table shook their heads at his glance.

"No thank you," Hawkeye said when he motioned for the second glass to go to her.

"One won't hurt," he argued.

"C'mon, Hawkeye, it's a big night," Breda agreed.

"Fine," she conceded, more to keep everyone else from chiming in on the subject, than anything else.

Glasses and wine deposited on the table, the waitress was about to leave when Falman called out to her. "I'm sorry, Miss, but would you help us settle an argument?" he asked.

"As long as it's not about who'll be paying the tab," she joked.

"Have you ever noticed that unavailable men seem a bit more attractive?"

The waitress flushed, her hesitance to answer all the proof Falman needed to give Havoc a 'told you so' look.

"Don't mind them. They're just being their usual idiotic selves," Hawkeye comforted the waitress.

"Hey, I might be drunk, but I'm not an idiot," Havoc complained, looking to the others for back-up, but they all looked elsewhere when his gaze fell on him. "Maybe I am, but I'm not the only one," he huffed.

Hawkeye nodded. "And, if you haven't forgotten, I am female, you could have asked me instead of putting that poor girl on the spot."

Mustang chuckled to himself as he filled her glass.

"You aren't a normal woman," Falman pointed out.

The table fell silent, again. The others looked back and forth between Falman and Hawkeye, waiting for her to react to his words.

"I'm going to do you a favor and take that as a compliment," she stated, her voice cold.

Falman frowned. "It was a compliment. You and General Armstrong are the only women who consistently eat statistics for breakfast," he elaborated.

Hawkeye cracked a smile, and the tension around the table seeped away.

By the time the the bar closed, her one glass of wine had become two when her glass was refilled while she was in the bathroom. Mustang had drained the rest of the wine bottle, and even started on another one.

One that he refused to leave behind when they left.

"Sir, you really don't need anymore," she scolded, her cheeks still warm from the wine.

"We'll need a little something to celebrate with when the call comes," he reasoned, nearly knocking himself in the head with the wine bottle as he raised it in the air.

"We're taking a taxi back to headquarters, Sir," she informed him.

Luckily for them, the closing of bars meant an abundance of taxis lingering on the streets.

"We'll see you back at the office," Fuery called, helping Breda support Havoc as he stumbled down the street.

The taxi ride was silent, as she'd suspected it would be. Mustang wasn't a loud drunk, nor was he a violent drunk. Drinking tended to make the alchemist think on things he usually found to be better off left alone.

She shifted uncomfortably as him as he turned his eyes on her. "Do you ever wonder what it could have been like if-"

"No," she cut him off, not knowing where his train of thought was going. "There is no use in thinking about what didn't happen," she told him, glad that the taxi had pulled up in front of head quarters.

He nodded, hand tightening around the neck of the wine bottle. She hadn't even let him finish, but somehow she'd probably known what he was going to ask, or maybe her answer was the same for the millions of possibilities he could have asked about.

"Why don't we stop by the mess hall and see if they've got any coffee or tea brewing?" she suggested as he climbed out of the car, shoving the wine bottle into her hands as he pulled out his wallet(despite her protests).

He yawned. "Coffee would be great," he agreed.

When they got into the main hall of head quarters, Hawkeye returned the bottle of wine to him. "Maybe you should take the stairs," she suggested, motioning for the pair of lieutenants lingering in the hall to join them.

Mustang followed her gaze to the cameras at the other end of the hall. Miles looked agitated as the reporters fired questions at him, blocking his path to the elevator.

Hawkeye put a finger to her lips so the lieutenants wouldn't draw the attention of the reporters with 'Yes, Sirs' and 'Yes, Ma'ams'.

They raised silent salutes.

"Escort him to his office and don't let any reporters in," she ordered in a whisper.

They nodded and flanked Roy as he headed for the stairwell.

She ducked down another hall, and entered the mess hall from the cooks' door.

"Sorry," she apologized as the officer stirring a pot of oatmeal turned to her.

"Yeah, yeah. It's a zoo outside the main entrance. I'm surprised you didn't run into Hakuro's men in the hall. Phil, help the Lieutenant General with her order," he called.

"You don't have to, I'm just getting a coffee and tea," she explained as Phil appeared in front of her.

"Coffee should be done brewing by now, and we've always got hot water," Phil commented, motioning for her to follow. "Long day, eh?" he asked, grabbing two mugs as he passed the stack of them.

"Very," she admitted, the weariness finally hitting her as they approached the coffee urn.

"Hakuro's men seemed to think the results were almost done," Phil commented.

Riza shook her head. "A blizzard has taken down communication lines in various parts of the Northern. And we still haven't gotten full reports from Western. Those alone could change the outcome."

"That's what boss was saying before you walked in. How do you take your coffee?"

"Oh, I can take it from there. Thank you."

"No problem. Hopefully those communication lines gets fixed real soon. Boss is getting tired of the press scaring everyone away. And good luck to Mustang," he said as he retreated back to the busy stoves.

Cream and sugar added to the coffee and tea steeping, she left the way she'd entered and slowly climbed the stairs to their office. Her thoughts on getting the latest set of numbers. She'd forgotten how quickly they could fix comm lines in Northern. If the blizzard had settled, then the reports could have come in any time.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Jacobson, Lieutenant Fredericks. You're dismissed."

"Yes, Ma'am," they said in unison. Jacobson stuck around a moment longer than Fredericks, opening the door for Hawkeye.

She smiled at the gesture. As soon as she thanked him, he joined Fredericks at the end of the hall.

Mustang was watching her from his desk in the inner office, a grin spread across his face.

"Sir?"

"We've got the majority from Western," he said.

"Well done, Sir."

Mustang sighed. "I wouldn't have been able to do this without the team. Without you, Lieutenant General."

She rolled her eyes as she set the coffee on his desk.

"You know, I'm going to miss calling you Lieutenant. Maybe I should make a new position for you. Liuetenant Fuhrer? What do you think?"

"I think you shouldn't get over-confident, Sir. We're still waiting on Northern, aren't we?" she asked through a yawn, avoiding his question. "And the projected numbers always favored Armstrong."

"You know, that couch is quite comfortable for napping," he informed her.

"Just drink your coffee, Sir," she ordered, as she took a seat on the couch.

He grinned triumphantly and grabbed the mug. "Cheer, Lieutenant."

"Cheers, Sir," she echoed, raising her tea.

Hawkeye's hand went to her holsters as voices woke her.

"Shhh, they're asleep," Havoc said in a hushed shout that probably would have been a whisper had he not been inebriated. The door creaked softly as he shut it, and the noise level died down.

She cracked open an eye and saw Mustang leaning back in his chair. A light snore was the only assurance she needed that he was still alive before she closed her eye and settled back into the couch.

What seemed like seconds later, a shrill ringing woke her.

"General Mustang speaking."

Hawkeye got to her feet as he smiled into the receiver of the phone.

"The report from Northern came in?" she asked.

He nodded as he placed the receiver back in its cradle. "I knew the rest of this wine would come in handy."

"Congratulations, Sir," she said, her voice breaking ever so slightly as she swallowed the emotion that lumped in her throat. She was caught off guard by the heat that prickled at her eyes, and chalked it up to her lack of sleep.

"Lieutenant General, now is not the time for crying," he teased, getting to his feet. "Now is the time for celebrating," he declared as he his way around the desk.

Irritated that he had noticed, she hardened her gaze, looking from him to the door.

When he stopped in front of her, rather than continue on to the door, she blinked in surprise. Before she could even question him, he had captured her right hand with his left and found the curve of her hip with his right hand.

"Just relax," he said over her stammered objection as he led her around the office in a basic waltz.

"Did you even drink your coffee?"

"Only that one sip," he confessed. "But, as I recall, that's all you had of your tea, before falling asleep."

She nodded, letting him pull her a bit closer to avoid colliding with his chair.

Then, it was the couch that was too close. She could feel his breath on her cheek. "Sir, I think Central Times would probably like an interview now," she reminded him.

"They can wait a few more minutes," he argued, grinning at her as his hand sank down from her hip.

She grabbed his hand in protest, and he took the break in her balance to close the inches between them.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" he asked into her hair.

"You're the one who had to go about it the complicated way. You could have just asked for a dance," she told him.

"So it would have been that easy all along?"

"Maybe," she answered, smiling into his shoulder.

He laughed.

Just as they finished making another circuit of the room, the door opened. "Hey, Boss! Central Times wants..." Havoc trailed off as he stared at them.

Hawkeye froze. Mustang didn't turn around. He just cringed, waiting.

"I knew it! Falman was right! This whole time, it was just because you were taken, wasn't it?" Havoc demanded.

"Let the reporters know the Fuhrer-elect will be down in a few moments," she snapped. "I think some target practice will sober him up," she added, making a show of glaring at Mustang as she disentangled herself from him.

Havoc gulped as he nodded and closed the door.

Hawkeye sank back against Mustang's desk, shaking with silent laughter.

"You wouldn't," he mumbled, still standing exactly where she'd left him.

"And waste the bullets? Throwing a bucket of cold water on you would do the trick better," she managed to say through her laughter, glancing up at him long enough to see his face pale.

She wiped at her cheek as a tear escaped her eye.

"Really? It's not that funny," he huffed.

"You didn't see the look on Havoc's face," she argued, wiping away another tear. "Or yours, for that matter.

He stared at her, not sure what to say.

"Why don't you relax a bit, Sir. Maybe drink the rest of your coffee?" she recommended, trying to hide her smirk when he scowled.

"I suppose I'd do it again, just to see that crying face," he shot back, laughing when she glared at him.

"Keep going on about that, and I will go find a bucket of cold water," she warned.

"No can do, we have a photo shoot, Lieutenant General."

"As long as you're done procrastinating, Sir."

"Quite done, Hawkeye."

"Well, let's go introduce Amestris to the new Fuhrer-elect," she suggested as she got to her feet.

He froze as she stopped in front of him and stood on her tip toes, running her fingers through his hair. "You had a piece of lint," she explained.

"You are a terrible liar," he informed her.

"I got Havoc to believe me, and my undercover work usually goes well," she protested.

"He was drunk, and undercover work doesn't count," he pointed out.

"You're still procrastinating, Sir."

-x-x-x-x-x-

**A.N. -** I love Falman's line :D Thanks for reading!

Thanks for reviewing: Rukia's Reflection, Universal Bunny, Aurora2361, Dailenna, Bizzy, Cristipotter Starry Pink, Deniece, Mirage992, Silvery Mist, JackSparrow589, Sarcasm Angel, Alynawatlovers, Kari Nago, Angel. Of. Allure, Legendary Chimera, Adelaide MacGregor, winglessfairy25, Lin, MoonStarDutchess, Kistune Moonstar, Hand-Made-City, YourFavouitePlushie, Everystep, RRForever, OTP, Illuminating-Darkness, WargishBoromirFan, RoyxRizaFan, Kannami, Craziestanimefan, Deniece, Gimpyslair, Sweetdeath04, Momiji-k, Fated Love, Blaze Alchemist, YourFavouitePlushie, Chou Aoi, Bar-Ohki, WhiteLadyoftheRing, Free Hero, Chibified Indian, Ruingaraf, Mirage992, Chaoticlullaby, Syolen, SilverGothicSweetTooth, Ehxhfdl14, Crystal Mage, Pickles the Great, Animluvr8, Anne Packrat, Kuroxdoragon, Yun Min, The Flaming Bitch Alchemist, Desert-Storm-Cloud, DaEvilGenius, Blaze Alchemist, GoldenViolin127, Jennlyn78, Kasumi_Ryumizu, LittleChemist, and Hunter-Robin.


End file.
